Runaway Train
by TwilightMomofTwo
Summary: It's been nearly 3 years since Edward left. That long, happy life he envisioned for Bella didn't quite happen. Can he save her from the abyss when he finds her destitute, broken and addicted to drugs? NM AU, EPOV/BPOV, adult themes. Charity fic.
1. Wreckage

**Author's Note: **This is the first chapter of my new story _Runaway Train_. Please note that it deals with drug abuse and other adult themes though I likely won't get too graphic with that. Coarse language also abounds. Grab a tissue or five before reading.

**Disclaimer: **All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just play in her sandbox.

**Summary: **It's been nearly three years since Edward left Bella in the woods outside of her house. That long, happy life he envisioned for her didn't quite pan out the way he thought. Bella is very broken when they are reunited and Edward has to struggle to bring her back from the brink. Is a HEA in the cards for them?

This chapter was included in the Fandom4Tsunami compilation. If you donated to this worthy cause, bless you. You got to read it first.

Thank you to Bella's Executioner and Caius09 for prereading. All mistakes are mine.

Rated NC-17 - If you're not of legal age, please read something else.

**1. Wreckage**

Bought a ticket for a runaway train

Like a madman laughing at the rain  
>Little out of touch, little insane<br>It's just easier than dealing with the pain

Runaway train, never goin' back  
>Wrong way on a one-way track<br>Seems like I should be getting somewhere  
>Somehow I'm neither here nor there<p>

Runaway train, never comin' back  
>Runaway train, tearin' up the track<br>Runaway train, burnin' in my veins  
>I run away but it always seems the same<p>

ooo~~~OOO~~~ooo

Runaway Train – Soul Asylum

BPOV

The phone rings somewhere in the bowels of the rundown house I've called home for the last nine months or so. At least I think it's been that long. Time isn't something I pay much attention to. I'm living on borrowed time – I know that much. The next hit might kill me.

Part of me hopes for that.

The ring of the phone echoes again. I don't bother getting up from where I am currently laid out, waiting for the high from the shot I just injected into my veins. Besides, the call likely isn't for me, anyway. Not many people know I'm here. Certainly not anyone that would care to call.

Someone will answer it, or not.

I just don't give a shit anymore.

Not since...no, not going down that route.

And then the euphoria hits and I feel like I'm floating as my mind shuts down and I lose myself in the colors that dance behind my closed lids.

It's the only colorful thing I get to see these days, the only time I feel alive. The rest of my life is various shades of gray. Most nights are spent whoring myself out to whoever is willing to pay enough money so I can get the next fix.

Male or female or both – it doesn't matter. Just hand me the money, use my body and then get the hell away from me. I don't form relationships with anyone except my dealer.

And he only cares about me as far as the money for the drugs is concerned.

I'm not close with anyone.

Not since I left Forks.

Actually, that's not quite true. It's been nearly three years since I left my hometown, but I've been gone longer than that.

I lost myself the day that _he_ left me.

And I know he's never coming back.

At this point, I certainly don't want him to, either. During my more lucid moments, I'm ashamed of what I have become but there's no turning back time. It's easier to deal with the pain of losing him when I'm high – when I'm floating above all the misery his leaving caused.

When I don't have to remember.

When I can dream.

I crave those moments – when all is well with my world and he's still with me. Reality fades and my life isn't fucked up anymore.

Because in my dreams, high on the drugs I sell my body for, Edward still loves me.

And when I come back down, I'm back to being a cheap prostitute, willing to do whatever you want so I can get my next fix.

I am Bella Swan, crack whore.

I wasn't always this way. There was a time when I was a good student, a happy teenager in love with the man of my dreams and poised to spend the rest of my life with him. I wanted him more than anything, and I was willing to give up whatever I had to, just to keep him forever.

My future was spread out before me and it looked bright indeed.

And then someone turned off the sun. My descent started on a cool day in the fall, shortly after my eighteenth birthday.

A fucking papercut turned my happiness into this pit of misery I've been living in for nearly three long years.

After Edward left me in the forest, I sank into a deep depression, lying in bed numb and mute for over a week, only to wake up with a ferocity that surprised me and my parents when my mother came to Forks at my father's request, to take me with her to Florida. I fought them both tooth and nail, got myself together enough to graduate high school and then hightailed it out of my sleepy hometown.

Somewhere along the way, I'd come up with a plan. I was going to find another vampire to turn me, and then I would try to find Edward again, with a new body and immortality, and I would finally be worthy of him.

Obviously, it didn't work out that way.

I started in Seattle where I got a job at a hardware store and a cheap place to live. At night, I frequented the bars, knowing that any nomadic vampire looking for prey would like be found in the cheaper parts of town where it wouldn't be unusual for someone to come up missing.

I found not a single one.

So I moved to the next big city. And then the next one. After about a year or so, I had made my way across the midwest to the east and was in New York City, working in a store in the burbs and riding the train into the city at night to find an immortal to either kill or turn me. I was unsuccessful, but of course, that was nothing new. Instead, the seedy underbelly of that city sucked me into the drugs I am now addicted to. I can still remember taking that first hit of pot, that euphoric feeling spreading through my veins.

I had been trying so hard not to think of him, not to even think his name, but when I put that bong to my mouth and sucked in the smoke, his velvety voice sounded in my head, scolding me.

And the anger was so lovely.

"_Bella! Smoking is bad, and smoking marijuana is illegal. Do you want to be arrested? Stop it now! You promised not to do anything dangerous or foolish._"

I smiled at the voice.

Pot turned into little white pills that were more expensive, and pretty soon, my pay at the store was barely enough to cover them. The first time I swallowed a pill, the voice in my head yelled at me again. When it stopped, I moved on to crack. With each new drug the voice came back but soon faded as I sank deeper into the addiction.

And then my performance dropped, I missed work once too often and suddenly was out of a job.

I lost my apartment next.

Being homeless in New York at the start of fall was bad enough, only foolish pride keeping me from calling my father, but when I met Joe one night my life took a turn for the worse.

He found me shivering on a park bench, huddled in my thin coat that wasn't enough to keep me warm.

"You look cold," he said when he sat down next to me uninvited. "What's a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?"

I looked up at him, his stringy brown hair hanging into his forehead, his hazel eyes cold and piercing, and shrank further into the bench.

"_Lie._"

I gasped when I heard the voice again but quickly gathered myself to respond in what I hoped would discourage the stranger to move on.

"N...Nothing. I...I'm...waiting for my friend."

"Hmm," the man replied, looking me up and down.

"_You must lie bett__er than that, Bella._"

"He'll be here soon," I insisted.

The man smiled slightly. "Okay. Stay warm, then."

He got up and I let out a sigh of relief, wrapping my coat closer around me as I watched him walk away from me. As soon as he turned the corner, I jumped off the bench and moved in the opposite direction, trying to figure out where to go for the night.

He must have followed me without my notice because he was suddenly beside me, grabbing my arm. I screeched in surprise when he put his hand across my mouth and pushed me into the nearest alley. It was Port Angeles all over again, but I knew this time there would be no savior showing up to rescue me.

"Sshh," he hissed as I struggled against him. "Don't scream. I'm not gonna hurt you."

He sounded sincere.

"I'm gonna move my hand if you promise not to scream." His eyes stared into mine and despite my fear, I nodded.

He moved his hand to my shoulder. "Stop struggling."

I did.

Joe took me home with him that night, fed me and gave me a place to sleep. In thanks, I cooked his breakfast the next morning, and he asked me where I lived. When I haltingly told him that I was homeless, he offered to let me stay in his apartment until I could get back on my feet.

I learned later on, long after he had gained my trust, that this was his usual M.O. - there had been plenty of girls before me meeting the same fate.

The drugs had obviously fried my brain because a week or so after meeting him, he convinced me to have sex, plying me with the pills that I craved. I don't remember much of my first time, too high to feel any pain though I found the blood on the sheets the next morning.

The shame was horrible and I spent hours in the bathroom scrubbing him and the guilt off me, sobbing into the cold tiles, feeling hopeless and lost and alone.

I still missed the boy who had loved me, if only for a little while.

From there, it was a rapid decline and by the time Joe showed his true colors, I was too far gone to care.

He pimped me out to his friends at first but soon he had me walk the streets, forcing me to bring back enough money to more than cover the drugs he gave me to keep me tied to him.

I only broke free of him because another of his girls took pity on me.

Amber was a few years older and she took me under her wing.

"I'm gonna get out of here, Bella," she used to say, "and when I do, you're coming with me."

I started taking a few dollars each night and holding them back from Joe, slowly building a small amount of savings. Amber did the same, and in the summer of 2008, two years after I left Forks, I was on my way back to Seattle.

We found an abandoned house occupied by a group of squatters, where we lived for a little while before making a few friends and moving into the rental where I'm living now.

I still sell my body for cash to buy the drugs I need.

I'm still ashamed of myself and I have not called my father in nearly three years. Forks is just a few hours to the west, but it might as well be on the other side of the globe. Light years now separate me from my old life, and I know I can never go back.

The door bell rings. I hear someone answer and then my name echoes through the house.

"Bella – there's someone at the door for you."

Huh. I slowly scramble off my bare mattress and make my way downstairs. Amber passes me in the hallway.

"Who is it?" My voice sounds slurred and tired.

"Some young guy. Said his name's Edward. Rather handsome, if you ask me. Don't think it's a john." She shrugs. "Very polite, too.

A choked breath bursts from me, pain flares at the sound of his name and I shake my head in disbelief. "What?"

My feet are already carrying me in the direction of the front door and when I wrestle it open, there he is.

He looks just the same as he did three years ago, just as otherworldly beautiful. His eyes, though, are dark and full of pain, and anguished grief is etched into the lines of his marble face.

I find this odd but then my legs give out and my world goes dark. As I lose consciousness I feel cold, solid arms catch me before I can hit the ground.

When I come to I'm in an unfamiliar car though the driver beside me is nothing if not familiar. As is the speed at which we are traveling, the buildings giving way rapidly to open roads and dark, sinister woods.

I move my head slightly to the left, groaning against the motion sickness. Sweat breaks out on my forehead and I can feel the beginnings of the withdrawal pains build in my veins.

Clearing my throat, I try to speak. "Where...are we going?"

"Home," he says through gritted teeth, glancing at me angrily before focusing his eyes on the road.

The anger is reassuring as I shrink further into the seat and study his profile. The angular lines, the sharp jaw under taut skin that looks much more sallow and shrunken than I remember. As I feast my eyes on the sight of him, I notice that his frame looks smaller and that the purplish shadows under his eyes are much more pronounced than I was once used to.

"Why are you here?"

The words wrestle themselves from my chest and he exhales in a rush before he replies, his voice pained.

"To save you. To save myself."

EPOV

The pain is excruciating, the guilt crushing my silent heart. Finding Bella in the crack house in Seattle was at once my absolution and the final step of my descent into hell.

Nothing is left of the vibrant girl I left behind so cruelly three years ago and it is clear that the cause of her current state can be laid squarely at my feet.

This emaciated shadow of the girl I fell in love with is my fault and mine alone.

Her scent, once so tempting and burning in my nostrils, no longer possesses the pull it had. It is laced with the chemicals she has been using and her skin reeks of sweat and the ugliness of where I found her though the sweetness of her blood still powers through.

The smell of sex, of other men, clings to her skin but I refuse to dwell on that thought, choosing to deal with that possible reality at a later time.

I need to save her, no longer from myself, but from the drugs she's fallen prey to, knowing that I need her to save myself.

I _need_ her. I can admit that now.

Alice knew and at first, she brought up the subject whenever I called or met up with my family for a day or two. She told me so many times that my assumptions were wrong, that Bella wasn't happy but I refused to listen and reminded her of her promise not to look. Eventually, she stopped.

For three long years I stayed away, fighting the pull of her each step of the way, wallowing in utter misery to the point where I spent most of my time curled up in a cave and slowly going insane. I missed her every minute of every hour of every day.

The only thing that held me back from running to her and confessing my lies was my conviction that she was better off without me. I had expected her to have finished college, secured a job and a nice man who would marry her and make her happier than I ever could.

My arrogant assumptions and my foolish dismissal of Bella's wishes are now coming back to bite me in my ass.

I should never have left.

I have no earthly idea how to go about bringing her back from the brink of death but I know I have to try. Certainly, I have two medical degrees and plenty of experience of dealing with addicts – if one counts the newborn years of Esme, Rosalie and Emmett and Jasper's continued fight against the temptation – so I'm fully aware that getting Bella weaned off the drugs she's been abusing her body with is not going to be easy. I'm a recovering addict, too, if I'm honest with myself. I fell off the wagon in my early years, clawing my way out of the addiction, and Bella has sorely tempted me in the more recent past. I know what it's like to fight every second of every day because that's what I did when I met her and fell in love with her. When I compared being with her to an alcoholic locked in a room with the rarest whiskey, I _knew_ what I was talking about.

This is not going to be an easy ride. Not for any of us but especially not for her. Her body will recover, that's a medical fact, but her mind and her spirit might pose a much greater struggle than I can fathom. I have no indication whether she still loves me and very little hope that she can ever forgive me.

But it's a ride I have to take.

Living without her is no longer a possibility.

It never really was.

Alice's frantic call three days ago is at the forefront of my mind.

_I was sitting in the Canadian wilderness, in the middle of nowhere, with my arms around my legs, and the image of Bella torturing me behind my closed lids. All in all a perfectly normal day. It was all I ever did these days. _

_three long years of utter agony and desperation. _

_I lived in a darkness of my own making._

_After Bella. _

_I faintly noticed the phone vibrate in the pocket of my jeans._

_After ignoring it twenty-four times, I finally decided to see which member of my family was so persistent._

"_Edward! You have to go to Seattle." Alice's voice was shrill, fearful and I was instantly on alert._

"_What's going on?"_

_Alice was sobbing into the phone. "I promise, I didn't look...it just happened...you were wrong, Edward...oh God, you were so wrong."_

_Ice-cold fear flooded my veins. "Wrong about what?"_

"_Bella," she sobbed. "I saw her die."_

_Shocked to my core, I dropped the phone to the ground, and then scrambled to pick it back up. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no. When? Where? How? Oh, God...tell me!"_

"_Seattle," Alice whispered. "I saw her...set a shot and overdose." _

_I was already running towards the south-west before I realized I was moving. "What? She's taking drugs? Oh, sweet Jesus. Why?"_

"_Why do you think, you idiot?"_

_For a split second my mind entertained the idea that Alice was right, that Bella had sunk into a life of drugs because of my leaving. Was it possible that I had been wrong to leave her? _

_The pain hit me like a freight train; excruciating fire raced through my dried out veins as I contemplated the possibility._

_There were a myriad of other reasons why Bella would have turned to drugs. Surely, she had gotten over me at some point. My whole reason for leaving hinged on that assumption and the possibility that I had gotten it all wrong made me stumble from the anguish that thought evoked. _

"_You don't know that, Alice." My voice was cold as I righted myself. _

"_Whatever, Edward, and it doesn't really matter at the moment. You need to stop her."_

"_When will this happen?"_

"_I'm not sure...really soon, I think. You have to go now. Now, Edward."_

"_Where is she?"_

"_It's an old house in one of the rundown sections." Alice fell silent for a moment. "I see her walking down the street at night. There are warehouses down the road and a few shops one street over. A bar on the corner. She enters the bar. She meets a man in a back room, hands him cash. He gives her a small bag and she leaves. The bar's name is Rusty's. Her house is just around the corner. Hurry, Edward. Hurry." _

_I made the decision instantly – there was no question in my mind what I would do._

_What I _needed_ to do._

"_I'm coming," I told Alice. "I'm going to get her. Call the others and ask them to meet us at the old house in Hoquiam. Tell Carlisle what you've seen so he can prepare to detox her. I'm bringing her home with me."_

_There was a sigh of relief. "Thank God, Edward. The vision is already changing. Please, bring her home to us."_

"_I'll call you when I'm on the way." _

"_See you soon," Alice promised and hung up._

Next to me, Bella moans in pain and I can see that the withdrawal has begun. I pull in at the next rest stop to purchase some water bottles and snacks and to fill up the gas tank. Bella refuses the food but accepts the drink.

"I need to use the restroom," she whispers after she has emptied one of the bottles. I flit around the car to help her, knowing that in her current state she is too weak and in too much pain to make it there herself.

I half-carry her to the facility, waiting outside the door while she has what she used to call a human moment. When she exits, her hair is plastered against her forehead, her face is glowing with perspiration and she is shaking, holding herself up against the door frame.

I know to expect this and I have medication in the car to give her. I look at her sadly and try to keep the crushing guilt off my face.

"Carlisle and the rest of my family are waiting for us in Hoquiam. I...I would like to help you, Bella. We all would. Nobody will hurt you, I promise."

She sneers. "Save it. Your promises mean nothing, Edward. Maybe I don't want to be helped, have you thought of that?"

Bella stumbles forward and I have to move fast to catch her before she falls again. I carry her back to the car as she hisses and demands I let her go.

"No." My arms tighten around her. I will never let her go again. The days of foolish arrogance are over.

I will deal with her rightful resentment later – the first priority is to get her taken care of physically. While that may not be the best approach in the long run, I am convinced that I need to get her off the addiction before we can even attempt to rebuild our relationship.

If there's anything left to rebuild.

If that's what she wants.

I am certain that she hates me.

As she has every right to.

Carlisle is ready for us when we arrive a few hours later and I carefully pull a whimpering, feverish Bella from the passenger seat.

"I already have a bed set up for her. She's emaciated," he gasps as he gives her a quick exam. "Bring her upstairs."

My family is standing on the porch. I can't meet their eyes. Their guilt, so similar to mine, is too much and their frantic thoughts are screaming at me.

I will deal with them later.

This has become my new motto.

She looks tiny in the bed. Esme has stripped her, washed her body and put her in a cotton pajama set. She leaves the room, her eyes rimmed in red from tears we cannot cry. She hugs me quickly before making her way to the kitchen.

"_Thank you for bringing her home, Edward._"

I watch as Carlisle sets the needle for the IV that will deliver much needed fluids and nutrients, as well as the first doses of pain medication. My siblings are downstairs and I force myself to ignore the accusations and pain in their minds. Jasper is not home and I wonder idly if he had to escape the overwhelming emotions we are emanating or if he's staying away so as not be tempted by the possibility of an open wound.

"I sent Jasper for more methadone. It will help her with the withdrawal pain and get her through detox," Carlisle says as if he just read my mind. "She needs to eat. Soft, easily digestible foods. I will add vitamins to her drip." He adds the latter for Esme's benefit who begins making a list which she'll give to Emmett in a few minutes. He's been chomping at the bit, at a loss for how he can help, and Esme knows doing the shopping will make him feel helpful.

I don't deserve my family; their desire to help Bella, and me, is – while not unexpected – more than I anticipated.

I pull a chair up and sit down next to the bed, gently grasping Bella's hand in mine. She whimpers a few more times, but gradually her soft cries turn to screams. She is sweating profusely, shivering and shaking, her head moving from side to side.

"_Get in the bed with her_," Alice's mind shouts. "_Look – it will cool her down._"

I feel stupid for not having thought of that myself. Immediately, I pull my sweater over my head and toe off my shoes. As I climb in beside Bella, clad only in a t-shirt, jeans and socks, and pull her into my arms, she calms slightly, her hand searching and then finding my face. She sighs, a small release of breath that almost sounds like contentment. The heat from her skin seeps into me and radiates through my frozen core.

Despite her abhorrent condition and the long road of recovery ahead of us, I feel hopeful for the first time since I left her.

**Two weeks later.**

"Fuck you, Edward. Fuck you and the high horse you rode in on."

Her tiny fists pummel weakly against my chest.

"I love you, Bella. I'm sorry."

"That's such bullshit. You fucking left me. You told me you didn't love me anymore."

"I lied," I say simply.

She stares at me for a moment in utter disbelief until the withdrawal pains fold her body in half.

"But you left me." The statement is merely a whimper.

Her knuckles are white from the deathly grip she has on my shirt.

"I was scared, Bella. I'm so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing by you but..."

"It hurts, it hurts. Make it stop hurting."

The agony on her face reflects my own though the reason is likely different. I fully realize that I am forcing her into the detox, without asking her permission.

My sorrow for the state she is in is exacerbated by the fact that I am trying to save her without her consent, but I am willing to suffer the consequences of my actions if it means that she will live.

Whether she hates me for it or not, I can't let her die.

"Sshh, sweet girl, I know. I'm so sorry."

"Edward. Help me."

"I'm trying, sweetheart."

I am helplessly trying to calm her as she thrashes deliriously on the bed. Holding her down sends her into a screaming fit, so I loosely wrap myself around her, careful not to jostle the IV, and softly hum the lullaby I composed for her when all the world was still in order.

It seems like a lifetime ago.

The last two weeks have been difficult, an exercise in trial and error as we work to figure out how to best help her quit the drugs. Carlisle has been weaning her off the methadone slowly and her detox is going as well as can be expected, from what he tells me and what I can see.

What little she eats, she often brings back up. Eggs seem to be the only thing she can keep down and Carlisle is worried about her nutritional needs, upping her vitamins and nutrients in the ever-present IV drip.

Alice and Jasper have been busy doing research at my request, trying to reconstruct Bella's movements from the last three years and working to figure out what she has been through.

So far, they have tracked her all the way to New York City where her trail ends and she disappears until she shows up in Seattle again nearly twelve months later, seemingly out of nowhere.

I am back to my stalker ways but I cannot deal with not knowing. It's almost as if I have to see proof of what I already know in my heart – that I broke her the day I left and that everything that has happened to her since then is my fault.

Guilt sits like a wrecking ball in my gut.

They have gone to Seattle for the day to see if they can find out more information from the people Bella was living with.

The picture their research paints is neither pretty nor encouraging, and in Bella's more lucid moments I try to prod her gently to tell me what has happened to her.

She has so far refused, her eyes full of shame as she turns away from me. I have a good idea of why she feels ashamed and I grit my teeth, trying to suppress that train of thought. Pain clenches my silent heart again and again and the anguish is at times overwhelming.

There is no escaping the truth. I love this woman more than my own life but in my foolish attempt to give her what I thought she deserved I almost killed her, and it becomes clear to me that changing her would have been the much more preferable alternative.

Her brilliant light has been snuffed out and I'm to blame.

When she finally sleeps more peacefully, I sit beside her in despair. Silently, Rosalie enters the room, accompanied by Esme. My sister glares at me, her mind full of anger and regret as her eyes sweep over Bella's small form.

"_We__ need to fix this, Edward. She doesn't deserve this_."

"I know," I reply evenly. "I'm working on it."

She nods after a moment, sitting down next to her and beginning to clean Bella's face with a cool rag, wiping the perspiration gently from her skin.

"You need to hunt," she adds after a moment. "Esme and I will stay with her. Take Emmett."

I look at Rosalie, surprised. "Are you...sure?"

Another angry glare is directed at me. "_Yes, moron. I won't hurt her._"

I backtrack quickly. "That is not what I meant to imply, I assure you. You have to understand, with your previous disdain, I'm a little surprised-"

She snarls. "I'm sorry, okay? Just..."

Rosalie looks down at Bella with something akin to tenderness. "_I was wrong, Edward_," she confesses. "_We all were._ _I'm so sorry._"

"Not nearly half as much as I am," I whispered shamefully. "Take care of her while I'm out."

She nods. "I will."

Esme is silent during this exchange although her thoughts are full of loving sorrow for Bella and a smidgen of pride for Rosalie.

Emmett glances up as I enter the living room. His eyes, normally so full of happiness, are dull and sad, his expression matching that of the rest of my family members. They all love Bella nearly as much as I do. There is regret and a tentative hope on his face as he tosses the remote on the coffee table and gets off the couch.

"Let's go," he says with a nod to the door. "You look like shit."

I remain silent as we run through the forest that borders against the house. After I have slaked my thirst I go to sit down on a boulder outcropping and Emmett lounges down beside me.

"How are you holding up, man?" he prods gently. "She'll get better, you know. I'm sure of it. We will get her healthy again."

I can hear the determination in his voice and thoughts but nonetheless, I snort derisively.

"Physically, yes. It's the emotional and mental part I'm worried about. We still don't know what happened to her in those twelve months after she arrived in New York. Twelve months," I scream into the silence around us as my fist smashes into the boulder I'm sitting on; a large chunk breaks off and hits the ground with a thud. "A whole year. And she won't tell me anything. She just turns away to face the wall. Fuck!"

I jump off the rocks, pulling on my hair in desperation. "You should see her face, Emmett. She's ashamed, I can see it, but I don't know why she feels that way. Is it because of the drugs? Or is there more that she feels guilty for? Based on what I picked up on when I found her..."

I have a fairly good idea how Bella supported her drug habit and it tears me to shreds inside just to think about other men having their hands and more on her body. I realize I cannot dwell on this – what's done is done and there is no way to take it back. My irrational jealousy has no place in this clusterfuck and I am disgusted with myself for even letting my mind drift in that direction. I cannot expect her to be the innocent I left behind and I know I won't love her any less if my fears are proven correct.

All that matters is Bella.

She has been treated abysmally, not only by the men who used her for their own disgusting pleasures, but even more so by me.

"How can I make her see that no matter what happened, there's nothing to be ashamed of? I'm the one who caused all this – I'm the one who fucking left her. This is all my fault."

He watches me quietly, his mind flashing with thoughts that jump all over the place. A particular image catches my attention. I gasp, staring at him with my mouth wide open.

He looks at me hesitantly, realizing my immediate recoil but forging ahead anyway.

"You have to admit, Edward, it's a viable solution. If you change her now, the transformation will take care of the addiction. She won't need drugs as a vampire."

"What about her emotional state?" I snarl at him, instantly angry. "What kind of newborn do you think she'll wake up to be? Frozen in time, with a broken heart full of shame and despair? No, as much as I would like the quick fix to cure her physically, I cannot condone her transformation until she and I have dealt with the emotional fallout of my stupidity. I owe her that much. You know what Rosalie still struggles with after all these years. No. I have to give her time to heal emotionally, too. If she can forgive me...if she can love me again, I'll gladly change her whenever she wants."

"What if she doesn't? What then?" Emmett is quick to push back.

My knees give out and I sink to the soft ground as I consider what he's alluding to.

"She has to," I whimper pathetically. "She's my mate."

"Yeah, well...maybe you should have thought of _that_ before you made us fucking abandon her."

Emmett gets off the rock and quickly walks over to where I'm on my knees. In a move that I barely see coming, he pulls me off the ground by my shirt and leans into my face.

"Listen, bro," he snarls, his eyes narrowed and his teeth bared. "You can have your hissy fits later. When Bella is healed, you can go all broody vamp if you want. Until then, you need to get your ass in gear and take care of my little sister. Got it, asswipe? Your fault or not, we _have_ to make it better. Your guilt is not helping. Love her and be there for her. That is all. Now get fucking busy."

He drags me along the woods until my legs start working properly again and I can shrug him off to speed up, running back towards the girl I love more than anything in this world. I burst through the front door, ignoring Alice and Jasper who have just returned from Seattle, though the sorrow on Alice's face confirms my worst fears, and into Bella's room where Esme and Rosalie still sit, watching Bella sleep.

I fall to my knees beside the bed, grabbing her still hand and clutching it to my chest as I sob uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry."

Her fingers move in my hand and my eyes fly to her face, watching with bated breath as her lids flutter like a butterfly's wings and then open to reveal the dark orbs that are the pathway to her soul. She blinks a few times, her face contorts with pain and I hiss at Esme to close the curtains and to mute the light in the room.

And then I apologize for hissing at her. She smiles indulgently but it doesn't reach her eyes as she pulls Rosalie out of the room with her.

"_Let us know_ _if you need anything_."

I nod, refusing to look away from the broken girl lying in the bed before me.

Bella licks her lips and her eyes find mine.

"Edward." Her voice is raw, a mere whisper.

"Yes, Bella, I'm here," I reply, stating the obvious but unable to help myself. I force a small smile.

"Edward," she whispers again.

"What do you need? What can I do?"

"Water," she rasps and I'm already grabbing the cup with the straw that sits on the small table beside the bed.

"Here," I say as I lift her head gently and hold the straw to her lips. "Let me help you."

She sucks greedily, the cool liquid flowing into her mouth, and she swallows a few gulps before she releases the straw and her head falls back.

"Thank you," she breathes and closes her eyes for a moment.

"Are you hungry? Esme made some chicken soup for you. It's not time yet for your meds," I add preemptively because I know she has to be hurting from the withdrawal she is going through.

The blood Carlisle drew from Bella when I first arrived with her has been tested and revealed fairly high levels of crack cocaine and marijuana. The puncture marks in Bella's arms have begun to fade. Esme has cut her fingernails short after Bella scratched her own face during her delirium of quitting the drugs. Those injuries, too, are beginning to slowly heal.

She nods in answer to my question.

"Esme," I say quickly, "would you mind bringing up some soup for Bella?"

"_I'd be happy to_. _Perhaps some toast as well_?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," I reply as I softly swipe Bella's damp hair from her face and tuck the blanket under her arms. I raise the bed up a little so she can sit up and lean forward to kiss her forehead.

"Soup and toast will arrive momentarily," I tell her. "Are you still thirsty?"

Bella shakes her head and her eyes, fully lucid for the first time in days, search my own. She reaches out her hand and I grasp it quickly.

"Why-," she clears her throat, "why am I here? Why did you bring me here? Why now?"

I swallow hard as I prepare myself to tell the truth.

"Because I don't want you to die. Because I was an unimaginable bastard to leave you. Because I cannot live without you."

She scoffs at my words. "Oh please. What the fuck ever."

Her language has gotten much more colorful over the years we've been apart but my vampire ears detect the underlying pain in her words and so I nod.

"I realize that it will take more than just a few pretty words to make you trust me again after I betrayed you so hideously. I hope you'll believe me though when I say that I will do whatever it takes to convince you that I'm telling the truth. I love you, Bella. I've always loved you and I _will_ always love you."

Her eyes close again, her head drops to her chest and a lone tear travels from her dark lashes down her pale face. Bella takes a deep breath as she looks at me again.

"Three years, Edward," she rasps. "Three fucking years without a word, without any contact. And you want me to believe that you loved me all this time?"

She coughs again and I reach for the water to offer it to her. In a move that I don't see coming she flings her hand against the cup and it flies across the bed, hitting the floor with a wet thud.

"Three fucking years," she yells as her voice gets stronger. "You left me in the woods after ripping out my heart. I _died_ that day, Edward. Don't come riding in as some knight in shining armor and tell me that you don't want me to die. You killed me when you told me you didn't love me anymore."

"I lied to you, Bella," I confess, shamed and anguished by her righteous outburst. "I lied, thinking that I was protecting you from my world and myself. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, walking away from you."

Bella growls. "You fucking prick! What right do you have to make that kind of decision for me? It was my choice to make, not yours."

I hang my head. "I know that now. I'm so sorry, Bella."

"And you're still making decisions for me, aren't you? Did you ever ask me if I wanted to be saved?"

Her voice is bitter and resigned.

"The things I've done since you left..."

Bella turns away from me towards the window and rashly pulls her hand from my grasp as she curls into a ball on the bed.

"Please tell Esme I'm not hungry anymore. I want to be alone now."

"But, Bella," I sputter, "you should-"

"You don't get to tell me what I should and shouldn't do," she snarls as she whips her head around and her eyes spit fire. "You lost that right a long time ago."

"Bella, please..."

"Just go, Edward. Leave. You're good at that." She turns back to the wall.

I've effectively been dismissed and though my frozen heart breaks, I have no option but to comply.

The door shuts softly behind me and the click of the lock echoes loudly in the hole in my chest.

**Endnote:** Thank you for reading. Chapter 2 is currently only available through the Fandom4Storms fundraiser but will be posted in early August. The chapters following this one will likely be much shorter and I won't be able to devote a lot of time to this until after Resurrection is finished. Please leave a review - any comments are always appreciated.

I'm on Twitter at twilightmomofto if you'd like to follow and on Facebook under Twilightmomoftwo Cullen if you'd like to friend me there.

Until next time,

TMOT


	2. Broken

**Author's Note:**

Thank you to those who got to read this in July because they donated to the storm relief efforts helping those whose lives were devastated by the tornadoes that swept through the Midwest and left a huge path of destruction. You rock! The folks at Fandom4Storms did a great job organizing it all.

To all my readers, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. It comes with a tissue warning. Keep those Kleenex handy. It's a rough, painful ride for now.

Thank you to Bella's Executioner and Caius09 for pre-reading. Hugs for you both.

To my darling husband - I love you. Thank you for your support, always.

**Disclaimer: **All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just play in her sandbox. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary: **It's been nearly three years since Edward left Bella in the woods outside of her house. That long, happy life he envisioned for her didn't quite pan out the way he thought. Bella is very broken when they are reunited and Edward has to struggle to bring her back from the brink. Is a HEA in the cards for them?

**Rating:** NC-17

**Runaway Train**

**2. Broken**

I'm hanging on another day

Just to see what you will throw my way

I'm hanging on to the words you say

You said that I will be okay

Broken lights on the freeway

Left me here alone

I may have lost my way now

Haven't forgotten my way home

I'm falling apart

I'm barely breathing

With a broken heart

That's still beating

_Lifehouse – Broken_

ooo~~~OOO~~~ooo

**Edward**

She has thrown me from her room. It's no more than I deserve but the helplessness that comes with the banishment combined with the guilt and shame of my actions make for a volatile cocktail that rumbles my insides and burns me to a crisp.

The worst part is that I can hear her crying; I can smell the salty liquid as it runs down her face and it takes every ounce of strength to continue on my path instead of running back to her bedside and sweep her up in my arms.

She doesn't want my comfort.

She doesn't want _me_.

These are the consequences of my abhorrent actions and while her tears utterly decimate me, I know that barging into her room would be absolutely counter-productive.

So with gritted teeth and my body bowed in pain, I keep walking down the stairs.

When I enter the living room, three pairs of eyes focus on me, all reflecting similar guilt and sorrow. Jasper absorbs as much as he can but it isn't enough.

Alice's mind is racing, throwing out scenarios and searching the outcomes of each. Strangely enough, when she settles on sending Jasper to Bella's room, the end effect is the most positive. I look at her in shock.

"Jasper?" I question as irrational jealousy flares. "Why him?"

Alice shrugs. "No idea but look – if he goes first, she'll allow Esme inside afterward, with food. I see her eating it. And I see her softening towards Esme. If I send Esme first, she'll refuse the food. And none of the rest of us get even a foot in the door, least of all you."

"I think she's made it clear that she doesn't want to see me, Alice," I snarl angrily. "I do _not_ need _you_ to rub it in."

"_You asshole_!"

She jumps off the couch and is in my face before I can take a breath. Her eyes are flaming and her lips are curled back in a menacing growl as she stabs a finger to my chest.

"_You're_ the one who insisted we leave, Edward, so don't you dare blame me for this clusterfuck. _You're_ the one who was so convinced she'd be better off without us, despite me telling you she wouldn't be. _You_ forbade me from checking on her, and all the while _you_ were miserable and pining for her. None of us, with perhaps the exception of Rosalie agreed with you, but we left anyway because _you_ insisted. You don't get to snarl at me because Bella has come to hate you and the rest of us for what we did. Fuck off! You fucking hypocrite."

Amidst the anger, there's sadness in her voice and her thoughts because she knows that her former best friend is refusing her too. I almost feel bad but I'm too caught up in my own pain to muster the ability to comfort her.

"She doesn't," Jasper injects. He's been watching his wife lay into me with something akin to pride. "She doesn't hate him, nor us. She is however unbelievably angry."

My head swirls around so fast that I'm half afraid to get whiplash. "What?"

Jasper shrugs, completely unapologetic. "Don't be dense, Edward. You can read my thoughts every time I check her emotions. Surely you must have seen by now that she's still in love with you. It may be somewhat buried, and she sure as hell won't admit it, but it's still there."

The thoughts that accompany that statement are less polite. Dumb fuck is one of the nicest things he's silently throwing at me, and yet none are undeserved.

Still, I can't let myself hope. I've fucked up my one and only romantic relationship beyond recognition. There isn't a snowball's chance in hell that she will forgive me, and I know that were she well enough to leave on her own right now, she surely would without a backward glance.

Eventually though, that time will come and I will have to let her go.

"_They're mated_," Esme thoughts flutter at me. "_Neither has a choice but to love the other. The bond is too strong. Perhaps... yes...there's still hope_. _There has to be_."

I wish I could share that faith as I shake my head in resignation.

"Jasper, if Alice sees you gaining entrance, we should try it. And if that will allow me to get in there with food, perhaps this is the best course of action for now." Esme's head swivels to face me. "Because all that matters at this moment is that my daughter up there gets better."

Her eyes are narrowed, challenging me and I don't dare to disagree.

Not that I want to because she's absolutely right. I need to put my selfish desires aside and focus on getting Bella healthy again.

"Now if that's all, I'll be in the kitchen preparing her meal. Edward, why don't you join me?"

The polite invitation is not one at all – it's a demand I cannot refuse. There's much steel underneath Esme's soft nature and I follow her like the suitably chastised boy I currently am. As soon as we enter the kitchen, she fusses over the pot of chicken soup that has been simmering on the stove for the last four hours, infusing the house with a horrible smell that sent Rosalie and Emmett running for the hills.

Alice stayed for me.

Jasper stayed for Alice.

Carlisle has gone to Portland to obtain more supplies.

I hear Jasper moving up the stairs as Alice joins us in the kitchen. There's a small vase already sitting on a tray, with a purple rose that's just about to bloom. I pluck it from the vase and quickly remove all thorns, appalled that Esme hasn't already done so.

"You're not going to listen in, are you?" Esme says quietly as she stirs a wooden spoon in the soup.

I arch an eyebrow as my only answer. No way in hell will I not listen unless they forcibly remove me from the house.

Apparently, Esme has joined the ranks of mindreaders because with a flick of her head, Alice is dragging me by my arm out the back door.

"The fuck?" I shout and yank my arm from her grasp. Instantly, her hand is on my ear and I bow towards her to lessen the sudden pain shooting in my skull. She's in my face again, snarling.

"Let's go, bucko," she growls. "You _will_ give Bella privacy."

Try as I might, I can't escape her because as I plan to wrestle my ear from her she sees my intention and adjusts her hold. She drags me thus all the way south, deep into the forests until Jasper's and then Esme's mental voices fade to nothing.

She knows my range, damn it.

We reach a small clearing and she pulls my head towards her, fingers still attached to my ear, her eyes narrowed. Pain flares in my head and I hiss in protest.

"I know I can't catch you, should you choose to run but you _will_ stay here with me, do you understand?"

"Damn it, Alice, stop yanking on my poor ear. This hurts, in case you didn't know."

"Be glad it's me and not Rosalie," she snickers as a response. "Now sit your butt down. I want to talk to you about what we found out. Do you promise not to run?"

When I don't immediately answer, she yanks again.

"_How about now_?"

"Oww! All right! Yes, yes, fine. I promise."

Only when my behind makes contact with the ground does she release her grip on me. I rub my ear, trying to get the sting to subside.

"So talk," I huff in frustration. "What did you guys find in Seattle?"

"Before I tell you, remember that this likely isn't everything, only the surface. The girl she was living with wasn't completely sober at the time."

I nod.

And then the words start.

Immediately, I recoil at what I see in Alice's head, not because of disgust with Bella but because I know that my cruel words that last day drove her into what she ultimately felt she had to do. I'm frozen to the ground, my whole body rigid with anguish and devastation at what she had to endure because of me and my foolish assumptions and outrageous decisions.

I hear the name of her enabler, her _pimp_ – the monster that forced her into prostitution when she had nowhere else to go.

Because of me.

His name is Joe.

I immediately make plans to fly to New York to hunt him down and kill him, imagining the myriad of ways I can prolong his death, torture him like he tortured my mate. Rage is at an all time high inside me, an inferno of burning need to destroy the fucker who treated her like a piece of meat.

The images look as good in Alice's head as she sees my future as they do in mine.

I can hardly wait.

Unfortunately, she slaps me back into the present and ignores my responding growl.

"_Later._"

I hear about the two girls escaping New York, their move to Seattle.

Squatting in a rundown building, then moving into the house where I ultimately found her.

Thankfully, there are no visuals but Alice is relentless with words alone as she recounts the conversation. During their research in Seattle, she and Jasper spoke at length to the girl who opened the door that day I went after Bella – her name is Amber – and she was very forthcoming, induced to trust without question by Jasper's formidable talent. It seems she's the one responsible for getting Bella out from under the guy that had them both enslaved.

I should try to help her too. Get her into treatment, give her a chance at a new life. Surely nobody wants to live that way, right? Surely she has family somewhere. I think of a trust fund in her name, the best treatment facilities available, making sure that she too never has to sell her body again.

A statue in her honor might be too much, but I consider it for a split second.

Again, Alice slaps me. "Focus!"

"Do it again and you will lose your hand," I threaten her, scowling at her impertinence. "I'm not a child, you are not Rosalie and I'm certainly not Emmett."

She stares at me pointedly. "Then don't act like one. All you've done so far is bemoaning what happened to Bella instead of focusing on what we need to do to make it better. The past is just that. Running off after the asshole in New York isn't going to change anything. At least now you know."

"So where _do_ we go from here, Alice? She won't even let me come near her. Now that she's lucid she just despises the sight of me." I hang my head, feeling utterly hopeless.

"I'm not faring much better," she assures me, pain lacing her voice. "In every scenario imaginable, she just throws me from her room. We have really done a number on her, Edward, and it will take quite a while for her to even consider forgiving us. Esme might be a start and you can hopefully build on that."

"Well, I suppose I have a while," I reply. "How does Jasper play into this?"

"I'm not sure but I have seen her opening up to him. She trusts him, I think, as odd as that may sound to you."

"They weren't close before," I say petulantly, "so why now, all of a sudden?"

Alice scowls. "Whose fault is that? Who forbade my husband to come close to Bella? Who was paranoid every time Jasper was near your girlfriend? Who ranted and had a conniption fit after I asked for Jasper to be included? Who circumvented every possibility for Jasper to get used to her scent and used to her? The only time you allowed him any kind of time with Bella was when you had absolutely no other choice. He loves her almost as I much as I do. He thinks of her as his sister. Of course, _you_ don't know that. It's not like you've been home lately, have you? God, you really _are_ a fucking hypocrite."

As I think on what Alice is saying, I realize that she's right. Perhaps the incident during Bella's birthday party could have been avoided if I hadn't been so mistrustful of Jasper's ability to restrain himself. Just as I needed to acclimate myself to Bella's scent, perhaps so did he.

And I never gave him the chance.

Add one more notch to the post that keeps tally of all the moronic things I've done.

I heave a sigh before grumbling to Alice that I agree with her. She smirks but then nods her head.

"To answer your question, though," she says, "I see them talking quite a bit over the next few weeks. And she turns to Esme a lot."

"Have you seen anything about if or when she might let me come near her again?" I can't help asking the question; the fact that Bella is keeping me at arm's length is excruciatingly painful. Even though I know perfectly well that I deserve no less.

Alice shakes her head. "No," she says sadly, "not yet. Give it time, Edward. She might surprise us both."

"I miss her, Alice," I whisper miserably. "I have missed her so much this whole time."

She grabs my hand and squeezes gently.

"Me too."

ooo~~~OOO~~~ooo

**Bella**

I listen to the door click into the lock before I let the tears come, fully aware that he will hear me cry despite the closed door. Hell, every single Cullen in the house will hear me sob into my pillow.

I still don't have a fucking clue what Edward hopes to accomplish. It's too late to save me. Even if I can get past the addiction, and it seems I'm on my way to doing that, the shame of what I have become will not just vanish as my body recovers from the abuse.

I'm a fucking whore and I'm fairly sure he knows it.

A knock on the door distracts me. I wipe my face, a useless gesture, and answer.

"Who is it?"

"It's Jasper. May I come in?"

I'm surprised enough to allow him to enter as I roll onto my back and cross my arms over my chest. He comes in quickly, closing the door behind him. I eye him carefully, unsure of what he wants.

He stands beside the bed, meeting my gaze. The expression on his face is one of guilt mixed with shame. I almost laugh when I realize that he looks the same way I do.

"Sit down," I say and gesture to the chair Rosalie vacated not long ago. "What do you want? If you're here to plead Edward's case, don't bother."

A small smile curls on his lips and he raises his hands in a defensive way while he takes the chair. "Nope, that's not it."

I raise an eyebrow, expecting him to elaborate.

"Did you know I have a doctorate in Psychology?" he asks and I can't help but gape at him. That's the strangest conversation opener I've ever heard and believe me, I've heard a lot of one-liners.

"Uhm, no," I reply when I find my voice. "Nobody mentioned that. What does that have to do with the price of rice in China?"

He chuckles. "You sure have changed, haven't you?"

I'm not smiling.

"Not like I had a choice. Now, unless you are here to engage in mindless banter, say what you came to say."

Jasper sobers and leans forward to put his elbows on his knees as he rests his chin on his hand.

"I owe you an apology, Bella, for the way I acted on your birthday," he starts but I interrupt him before he has a chance to say anything else.

"No, you don't. What happened that evening was a simple mishap. I know you didn't mean it. And anyone with half a brain," I add snidely, knowing if Edward is in the house he will hear me, "could have figured that out. You're a vampire. I was bleeding. Case closed."

He stares at me for a moment, most likely testing my emotions, before he leans back in the chair.

"Interesting," he mutters, "you actually mean that."

I raise an eyebrow. "Seriously, Jasper? Have you ever known me to lie?"

"My apologies, Bella," he replies. "I wasn't given the chance to be around you much before but to answer your question – no, I have never sensed a falsehood from you."

"So why would I be lying now?" I challenge him. "What have I left to lose? I'm at rock bottom, Jasper. One foot in the grave. No point in lying."

From somewhere in the house there is a loud groan. It's laced with pain, with desperation. I drop my head and stare at my hands in my lap. Despite my current aggravation with Edward and the rest of the Cullens, I don't like to be the kind of person who inflicts pain intentionally on someone else.

Only on myself.

"Guess he didn't like the reminder," I mumble to break the sudden silence. When I look up again, Jasper watches me calculatingly.

"None of us do," he answers quietly after a moment. "We've all made a huge mistake, Bella, and we are very, very sorry but if you're willing it's not too late to make it better."

"Is that why I'm here?" I snarl. "Because you feel guilty for what happened so now you want to fix me?"

He raises his hands in a defensive gesture. "We feel guilty, yes, but not just for what you've experienced since we left. We feel guilty because we abandoned you, for no valid reason other than Edward's impassioned demand that you would be better off without us. And now that Edward has pulled his head out of his ass..."

He trails off as I start laughing and looks at me questioningly. I try to collect myself while he waits patiently, a faint smile on his face.

"Sorry, sorry," I gasp while trying to catch my breath, "not laughing at you, just at what you said."

"Which part was so amusing to you?"

"The part about Edward's ass."

He nods as his smile grows. "Ah yes. Well, darlin', it's God's honest truth. That boy needs you, more than he ever told you and certainly more than he ever admitted to himself. He's only recently come to the conclusion that life's not worth living unless he has you. And unless I'm seriously mistaken, you need him too. Which brings me back to why I'm here. I want to help you, Bella. I know you haven't told Edward or anyone else what really happened to you since we left but as you must surely realize, I can feel your emotions. And since I already know what you're feeling I figured you might want to talk about it with someone who understands. I'm offering myself as a friend, if you'll have me. Someone to talk to, to get these things off your chest. I won't judge you. Hell, I have no right to judge you because nothing you may have done could be any worse than the atrocious acts I committed in my past."

Jasper looks directly at me as he speaks and as I stare back at him, I can see the sincerity in his eyes just the same as I hear it in his voice.

I think about his offer for a moment. Of all the Cullens, with perhaps the exception of Carlisle, I know that Jasper is probably my best choice to unburden myself. I know he would keep my confidence as much as possible. I just have to figure out first if that's what I want.

I don't know that I'm ready to forgive any of them, but Jasper would probably be the easiest to talk to.

"I'll think about it," I offer as a reply. "And if I agree, I'll have a few conditions. Like, it would be just you and me. Nobody else in the house, nobody listening in. And I'll need you to not think about anything I might reveal around Edward. Not until I'm ready to tell him myself. Could you meet those conditions?"

He simply nods. "Yes."

"Okay," I breathe. "I will let you know what I decide."

Jasper gets up slowly and reaches out his hand. When I don't move he carefully grasps mine and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"Whenever you're ready, darlin'."

He bows his head as he lets go of my fingers and with a few steps, he leaves the room.

I am alone again, at least until the next Cullen with the need to apologize comes to my room.

It doesn't take long until there's another knock.

Fucking figures.

"Who is it?" I growl, annoyed.

"It's Esme, sweetie. I...uhm...I brought you some food, if you're hungry?"

Fuck! There's no way I can be mean to Esme, no matter how angry I am with her.

"Come in," I reply and the door opens before I finish speaking. Esme walks in with a tray held in front of her. As she moves closer, I can see that she has arranged quite the meal for me – a bowl of steaming chicken noodle soup, a few slices of buttered toast, the plate garnished with tomato slices, a small bowl of fresh fruit and a tall glass of milk so cold that the condensation is almost frosting on the outside. Esme sets the tray on the hospital-style table-slash-cabinet that sits next to my bed and rolls it so the tray is right in front of me. Amidst the food is a small vase with a purple rose. Upon closer inspection, I can see that someone has removed all the thorns.

I don't have to wonder who that might have been.

I grab the remote that lets me lift up the upper part of my bed so I can sit up supported.

"Thanks," I say and give her a small smile as she fluffs the pillows behind my back. "It looks delicious."

As if on command, my stomach growls. I may not have an appetite due to stress and pain but my body knows what it needs, now that they have more or less weaned me off the drugs.

Esme clucks for a while longer, the mother hen in full force, straightening the blanket and sheets at the foot of the bed and then stands abruptly, facing me with a sad expression on her face.

"May I stay a while?" she asks hesitantly, and it breaks my heart to see her so timid and afraid of my rejection.

She knows she has hurt me as much as the rest of them but she's the only mother figure I've ever known. I nod my head once and she sits down in the empty chair as I direct my focus to the food.

"Eat up," Esme encourages, "I hope you'll like it."

"Old family recipe?" I attempt to joke.

She cracks a weak smile. "Actually, I found it in the Betty Crocker cookbook in my kitchen. I do believe that it's the first time it has been used since we bought it. Hopefully, the soup turned out alright."

She leans forward and lowers her voice. "If you don't like it, I won't be offended."

I can't help but smile at her eagerness to please which in turn makes me want to assure her, a feeling that is at odds with the anger that still courses through me most of the time.

"My Grandma Swan used to say that the most important ingredient was a pinch of love. Knowing you, I'm sure you added more than a pinch."

My voice sounds wistful even to my own ears and I swallow hard when I hear Esme's quiet inhale. My eyes find hers and I can see it all – the guilt, the sorrow, the love and, last but not least, the hope. It's all there and while hers aren't the first golden eyes I've seen since Edward picked me up in Seattle, they are the first where I allow myself to acknowledge the unspoken words within.

Esme might be the first one I will manage to forgive.

I can tell the instant she realizes my emotions. As usual, my face is an open book, and it doesn't take an empath to know what I'm feeling, but so is hers right now. To her credit, all she does is squeeze my leg gently with a smile. After a moment of silent conversation, I pick up the spoon and dip it into the soup, bringing a mouthful to my parched lips.

It's heavenly.

And for the first time in a very long time, I feel loved.

**Endnote:** I have no timeline for when I will write and post the next chapter as my focus is on my other WIP at the moment. Please leave me a review - all comments are welcome and appreciated. Thanks so much for reading. Until next time.

TMOT


	3. Mending

**Author's Note:**

To all of you who got to read this chapter as part of the Fandom4Texas compilation, **_thank you_** for donating to those who suffered devastating losses due to the horrible wildfires that wiped out a huge area in the state.

Thank you to Bella's Executioner and Caius09 for pre-reading and catching my mistakes. All remaining errors are mine.

**Happy New Year to all!** Thank you for your support in 2011, and I hope to hear from you in 2012 as well. :)

**Disclaimer: **All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. Thank you, ma'am, for letting us play in your sandbox.

* * *

><p><strong>3. Mending<strong>

_Some broken hearts never mend,  
>some memories never end,<br>some tears will never dry,  
>my love for you will never die <em>

_Don Williams _

* * *

><p><strong>Bella<strong>

Time passes, even for the broken-hearted.

I've been eating better, which has delighted Esme, and little by little, my frame is filling out again. I'm stronger, able to get out of bed and move around my room, around the house as I please. Carlisle checks my weight and my blood once a week, but we don't talk much. I see the sorrow in his eyes, but I cannot bring myself to forgive him quite yet.

Irrationally, I blame him too for not standing up to Edward after the incident on my birthday. Carlisle is the patriarch, after all – shouldn't he have stepped in and prevented the situation after the party from spiraling so completely out of control?

When he's finished with his exam, he kisses my forehead and tells me I'm his beloved daughter. And that he's sorry for what I've been through, for what I've had to endure. Sorry for what they've done.

He's making it very difficult to stay angry with him.

I don't see the rest of the Cullens much other than in passing. Alice has been keeping her distance, obviously seeing that she's uninvited to my pity party, and Emmett and Rosalie aren't spending much time at this house for some reason or other. I'm sure Rosalie is not happy with the fact that I'm living here now, stinking up her home.

I wish I could call my father, but that ship has long sailed. I fought him tooth and nail the day I left town, and I'm fairly certain I'm no longer welcome in his house, not after the words I left him with.

I've learned to live with that for now. Perhaps sometime down the road, I can bring myself to call him and beg his forgiveness.

Most days, as the weather allows, I eventually mosey into the backyard where Esme and I have been planting herbs and flowers in a little garden that has become my oasis.

It's surrounded by trellises covered in ivy and it's peaceful, quiet here. There is a small concrete bench that appeared one day. I can guess who put it there even though Edward has been keeping his distance, as I requested. We still haven't spoken since that day I kicked him out of my bedroom, but I know he's around, watching, waiting for me to invite him back in.

I'm not ready yet.

I roll my eyes a lot, especially in those moments when I catch glimpses of him leaving whatever room I'm entering, his face drawn and full of despair. It's as if he's trying very hard to give me space, no matter how much it hurts him, and those are the moments when I want to call out to him to stay.

Whenever that happens, my heart gives a jolt and I have to press my lips together so the words don't leave my mouth. It's too soon, and I know it. I have to first work on myself before I can even think about working on my relationship with Edward.

Letters and trinkets regularly appear in my room overnight while I sleep. A pressed flower. A white rose, just starting to bloom, all thorns thoughtfully removed. A smooth stone, an 'I love you' carefully and painstakingly etched into the surface in a familiar script. One day, it was an iPod. Then a cell phone. An old bottle cap, misshapen and worn, the paint nearly gone, as if someone had rubbed it over and over.

That one puzzled me initially until I realized that it was the top of the lemonade bottle from our very first lunch together at Forks High.

That one made my heart clench at the memories.

At first, I got angry with the gifts, setting them outside my door where he would find them and realize that I had refused his offerings. Petty, I know, but I couldn't help myself. It made me feel as if he was trying to buy my love for him back.

What he doesn't realize, and what I sure as hell haven't told him – I've never _stopped_ loving him.

I've kept the letters. It took me a while to gather the courage to read them, but once I opened the first one, I devoured the rest of them, crying and raging and clinging to his words as if they were a lifeline. For once, Edward was completely honest with me, laying it all on the line, and it has slowly softened my attitude towards his betrayal.

Then one day, I found a laptop in my room, set up with email and everything else I needed to open further communication with him.

I haven't used it yet but oh, how I'm tempted.

Jasper and I have a standing appointment of sorts. It's almost a daily exercise now, talking to him, unburdening myself, sorting through the broken memories I have of the last few years since...Edward abandoned me.

I'm working on the shame. There are days when I cannot believe how low I let myself sink, my throat closing up with overwhelming horror at the girl who spread her legs for anyone with coin so she could get her next fix.

Jasper has been amazing through it all, patiently listening and telling me over and over that the past is just that – the past. That I have to look forward, and that nothing I do will ever change what has happened to me, what I allowed myself to become. I can't erase my past, but I can make a better future.

Slowly, I'm starting to believe him.

Rosalie has come by twice. First, to apologize and tell me that she has come to realize how much Edward needs me. Hard words for her, I'm sure, knowing she was so against me in the beginning. She seems to have gotten over her aversion to me, and after the initial hemming and hawing, the conversation was actually fairly easy.

The second time she visited with me, she dropped college brochures into my lap. I stared at her in disbelief.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes at her. "I'm clearly not in a position to go to college."

"Take online classes," she replied with a shrug. "Seeing how you have a laptop now, it shouldn't be difficult."

"Even so, last I checked tuition was out of my reach, seeing how I have no job and no scholarships to pay for it."

Rosalie sat down beside my bed and patted my leg condescendingly. "Let me explain something to you, Bella. You are part of the family now, no ifs or buts about it. As a Cullen family member, you have full access to the Cullen money. Use it. I haven't confirmed it yet, but I am certain there's a credit card with your name in one of Carlisle's desk drawers."

"But...I'm not contributing to the Cullen family funds," I retorted stubbornly.

She shrugged again. "So? Neither do I. Nor do Emmett or Jasper or Esme. The only one of us earning an income is Carlisle, and he only works because he finds great satisfaction in being a doctor and using his extra senses to help people. Still, his salary certainly isn't enough for us to live on. Edward and Alice play the stock market and invest our money – they're the real bread winners."

She went on to explain the intricate details of the financial setups that day and left me with much to think about. She hasn't mentioned it since, even though I see her in the house most days. I usually get a short wave and a small smile before she buries her nose into whatever magazine she's reading or disappears to the garage to tinker with the cars.

I'm tempted to give in and apply for college, just to take a few of the required classes U-Dub offers online.

Some days are better than others. On bad days, I can barely get out of bed to take a shower. Esme always knows – I have a sneaking suspicion that Jasper does a mood check on me every morning and shares that information with her – and she will unfailingly show up with a tray of food for breakfast, lunch and dinner, but leaving me to my thoughts without trying to pry. Those are the days that I rage and cry during my sessions with Jasper, the deep-seated anger with all of them pouring out of me.

On good days, I show up in the kitchen for breakfast and then dash out to the garden to read or simply enjoy the sun warming my face.

Today is a good day. The sun is shining and I'm sitting on my bench, surrounded by flowers teeming with butterflies. The air is starting to get cooler, and fall isn't far. I pick one of the larger flowers and stick it in my hair.

I'm able now to think back to happier days, treasured memories. Oddly, it no longer hurts as much to remember that day Edward took me to the meadow. Perhaps that is because in one of his letters he told me how much that day meant to him. Perhaps it is because in his last letter he shared with me the moment he fell in love with me.

"Hi, sweetie," Esme greets quietly as she joins me in the garden. I look up at her and notice a tightness in her eyes that wasn't there earlier. She looks sad, as if she has gotten bad news. My heart starts beating faster, clenching in my chest as I'm suddenly worried that there is something wrong with Edward or one of the other Cullens.

She sits down beside me and gathers me in her arms. I eagerly lean my head against her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Esme? What happened? Is everyone okay?"

"Oh, yes, we're all fine, don't worry. It's just...Alice tried to see Charlie this morning, and...found that she couldn't. When she looked further into it, she came upon a story in the local paper...I'm so sorry, Bella, I wish I didn't have to tell you this...your father, he...he was killed two years ago, shortly after you left Forks."

Blood drains from my face as her words sink in and my vision gets hazy when tears spring to my eyes. Faintly, I can hear someone screaming a long, drawn out 'Noooooo' and it takes me a minute to realize the sounds are coming from my mouth.

"No, nononono, oh God, please, noooo..."

"Bella, oh sweetie, shh, calm down... Bella!" I hear Esme shushing me but I can't stop. My breathing speeds up to the point of hyperventilating and then my world goes black.

I come to lying on my bed, wrapped in blankets and the strong arms of the one I need the most. His familiar and long-missed scent calms me enough to not panic at the situation, though for a moment it is unclear to me why he is here with me.

"Edward...? What are you...why am I...what's going on?"

And then it all comes rushing back to me, Esme in the garden, the news about Charlie, and the tears flow anew. Edward's arms tighten around me as I cling to him, sobbing against his shoulder, the pain overwhelming. He strokes my back softly, letting me cry and wet his shirt as my fists clench around the fabric. Every so often, he kisses the top of my head, still silent, not saying a word as I sob and sob at the loss of my father, and the missed chance to make things up with him, to tell him that I love him.

After many minutes or hours or days, I calm enough to ask the questions I need answers to, though the tears aren't stopping. I lift my head to look at Edward.

"What happened to him? How did he...die?"

"He was found in the backyard of your house when an officer checked on him after he didn't show up for work," he replies quietly. "The story Alice found spoke of an animal attack. He had injuries that seemed consistent with that. The coroner determined that a bear must have come into the yard and mauled him."

"A bear?" I gasp.

Edward's face is grim. "It's unlikely," he supplies. "Jasper dug a little deeper and found the official police report. It seems that there were some questions at the time about the lack of...forgive me...sufficient blood at the scene. The injuries were consistent with an animal attack, but one of the officers wondered why there wasn't more blood. Apparently, they presumed it was either washed away by the rain, or that it had drained into the ground. It was determined that he'd been dead for approximately twelve hours before he was found, and it had been raining hard that night, so they were satisfied with that explanation."

I'm a smart girl; I know what he's trying to say. This was no bear that killed my father but a vampire, and I wonder immediately if it was anyone the Cullens know.

"Who was it? Who killed him?"

I can feel him hesitate just slightly before he answers. "I think it might have been Victoria."

Immediately, the image of the wild, red-headed vampire pops up in my head. I met her only that one time, at the baseball field long ago. Edward killed her mate James when he'd come after me, and I'm not surprised that she would return for revenge. What I don't understand is why she would go after my father instead of me.

"Why would she wait until I had left town? That makes no sense. Why kill Charlie if it's me she's after?"

Again, he hesitates. "I...after I...left you, Bella, I went looking for her. I was concerned that she would come back for you, so I chased her. She kept eluding me whenever I got close. That might be her talent, but I'm not sure. I tried to track her but it seems I'm not very good at it."

He frowns as he says that, a look on his face that says he's surprised and just a little put out that the infallible Edward Cullen is not perfect. I don't give a shit. I've known for a long time that my perfect image of him wasn't so perfect after all.

"I completely lost her trail after about nine months, having followed her all over Canada and Alaska after...that day...and by that time I was barely functioning. From what I can gather based on the timeline, she struck only a couple of weeks after you had left town. In any case, my pathetic attempts at tracking her seemed to have distracted her or kept her busy enough for you to get out of town before she could make it back to Forks. I think that she came looking for you, and when you weren't there, when your scent was no longer fresh, she killed Charlie in a fit of rage."

I'm silent for a while. A large part of me feels guilty, as if my leaving caused my father's death. Another part of me is angry with Edward for not succeeding in his pursuit of Victoria, an irrational anger that I push down because I realize this isn't his fault. And there's fear, too – fear that she will come after me again and that my presence here is putting the Cullens in danger.

"Where is she now? What if she shows up here?"

Oddly, there's a hint of a smile on Edward's face but it's gone faster than I can blink.

"She won't," he replies, sounding a little proud. "She's dead."

"What?" I stare at him blankly, not understanding what he's telling me. "How do you know?"

There's that small smile again. "I know, Bella, because I killed her."

~~~~~~ooooo~~~~~~

**Edward**

For the first time in months, she's in my arms and I can't help but revel in the feeling of her warm body pressed against mine, inhaling her scent over and over, drugging myself on her presence. Yet I know, if the situation were different, if I hadn't just delivered the awful news that her father perished at the hands of a crazed vampire, she would likely demand that I leave.

And I would. I've struggled as I've never struggled before, but so far I have complied with her wishes and kept my distance while she recovers. Jasper and Esme are the only ones she's close with, and it nearly kills me to stay away but Alice keeps telling me that by giving Bella time, I have a smidgen of a chance to get her back.

And Jasper keeps reassuring me that Bella still loves me, though she hasn't admitted it to anyone, not even him. He doesn't say or think of anything that goes on in their nearly daily sessions, keeping his promise to her.

The letters seem to be helping. Every day I write to her, sometimes just a memory of our time together, but more often than not, my words ask her forgiveness for my actions. I've explained why I felt I had to leave her, that I was afraid for her life but that I long ago realized how wrong I was. I've penned to her that I'm sorry, so sorry, and that I love her more than my own life. That only her happiness matters to me, even if she can no longer love me back.

I've noticed over the last few weeks that her facial expressions have slightly softened whenever she looks at me, and it's given me hope that not all has been lost by my stupid decision to leave her.

I yearn for the day when I can tell her all that is in my silent heart but until then, I have to resort to written words I leave in her room every night. I don't know if she reads my letters but it's my only way of communicating with her for now.

As I make my statement about Victoria, I search Bella's eyes for her reaction to the knowledge that I've killed a sentient creature for her. I see shock but also what can only be interpreted as awe and gratitude.

"When?" she demands. "And how?"

"She returned to Canada after murdering your father and crossed my scent. I think at that point she was so crazed with the need for revenge that she thought to kill me instead of you. She confronted me, we fought and she lost."

My words are clipped, leaving out details I don't want to divulge quite yet and Bella's eyes narrow.

"Somehow I get the impression there's more to this story than what you're telling me."

Still so perceptive. I sigh as I pinch my nose, knowing that she won't let up until I've told her what I've withheld from her so far. Apparently, I hesitate too long because Bella pushes herself into a sitting position from where she has been lying against me and pokes my chest.

"Fucking spit it out or get out. I'm done with the lies and the not telling me shit to protect me."

Her angry voice coupled with the threat of being thrown from her room again prompts my own ire.

"You want to know the details?" I snap as I glare at her and sit up as well. "Fine. I'll give you the details. Victoria found me about twelve months ago in a wooded, remote area in the middle of nowhere in the north of Canada where I'd been sitting for weeks, forcing myself to remain in one spot so I wouldn't further jeopardize you by doing what I wanted the most and run back to you to beg you on my knees to take me back. Is that what you wanted to hear? How I've missed you to the point where I could barely function? How every second of every minute of every hour of every _fucking_ _day _was pure and utter misery because you were no longer by my side? How I've regretted my decision to leave you over and over and over from the moment I walked away? How jealous I was of anyone I envisioned capturing your heart and making you his? How I hate myself for leaving you the way I did? For abandoning you so callously? Is that what you need to hear, Bella?"

She stares at me open-mouthed, seemingly stunned into silence.

"She chanced upon me when I was at my weakest," I continue, a little quieter now. "I was sorely tempted to let her kill me, to end my miserable existence, but what kept me fighting was the knowledge that _you_ still walked this earth. It took every ounce of strength I possessed to defeat her, but her thoughts of taking her revenge on you were what ultimately led to her demise. Her hatred of you fueled my need to destroy her so that she could never threaten you again. I ripped her apart, gleefully and proudly, because I needed to make sure you were safe. When it was done, I burned the pieces and then sat back down in my spot where I remained until the need to hunt became too great. Every few weeks I dragged myself away to charge my phone and feed, and I continued in that fashion until the day Alice called me to tell me you were about to die."

I drop my face into my hands. The house is silent. Those of my family that were in or near the house have quietly moved out of earshot during my rant at Alice's prompt, and I am left with a parting thought from Esme, reminding me to stay calm, that Bella still loves me. Her mind is full of hope simply based on the fact that Bella and I are finally talking, and that some good might come from my rash confession.

I am frozen on the bed, awaiting her wrath. I'm sure after what she has suffered during my absence, she couldn't care less about my own pain. Bella doesn't move an inch, her breathing shallow, her heart beating faster than normal. I can smell the tears that are still flowing from her eyes, but I'm not deluding myself into thinking that she's crying for me.

Her shirt rustles as she wipes her arm across her face.

A hot hand touches my cold one, and I lift my head in disbelief that she would initiate skin-to-skin contact. When my gaze finds hers, the brown eyes that are the windows to her soul are rimmed in red, shimmering with tears, but oh so focused on mine. Her expression is unreadable and I have no hope that she feels any kind of compassion for me because I deserve none.

The path of her hand continues until it reaches my cheek where it softly cups around my flesh. My remaining air escapes me on a broken sigh, and I cannot prevent myself from leaning into her touch. Slowly, her thumb strokes across my skin, and I cannot breathe for fear she will stop touching me if I move even in the slightest. My hands lie uselessly in my laps as I dare not reciprocate. Her lips open slowly and she takes a ragged breath.

"Edward," she exhales.

I don't know what to do. I'm lost and confused and so afraid to make a wrong move that I remain frozen in my spot on her bed.

"Edward," she breathes again and I know my eyes, riveted on hers, are full of longing, full of the love I feel for this fragile woman before me.

And then she pulls back her hand and slaps me. It doesn't hurt, of course, but the sound echoes through the room. My eyes widen at the same time hers narrow.

"Fuck you!" she yells out, eyes suddenly ablaze with rage. "All of that misery could have been avoided if you hadn't left me. We could have worked through anything, but _no_, you had to go and play martyr."

Her arm pulls back again, poised to strike and though I want to catch her hand in mine, I let her slap me again. She bursts into hot tears when her hand makes contact, falling forward towards me. My arms open automatically and she pulls herself closer by fisting her hands in the collar of my shirt, ending up straddling me with her legs on either side of mine.

Her gaze is locked with my own, her face comes closer and then her lips are on mine, hot and softly moving against me, her eyes slowly closing as my own flutter shut. My arms tighten around her almost involuntarily as I throw myself into her kiss, giving her whatever she wants to take. I'm hers and I know it, and I can only pray that she knows it too.

When she breaks the kiss, we're both breathing hard. She stares at me for a moment until she lets go of my shirt and gets off the bed. I am reduced to watching her walk away, shocked into immobility. Bella firmly closes the bathroom door behind her, shutting herself away from me.

I hear the water run and splash, then the rustle of a towel. A few more minutes pass silently but then I hear an angry shout come from the bathroom and something crashes into the wall, followed by the sound of glass hitting the ground. I'm off the bed not a millisecond later, knocking on the door.

"Bella?"

There is no response, just her heavy breathing and rapid heart beat. I knock again, worried now. There is broken glass on the floor and I fear she might step in it, barefoot as she is.

"Bella? Are you alright?"

I hear her move and then a muffled curse before the scent of her blood becomes stronger and I know that my fears were not unfounded. I burst into the room and scoop her up into my arms, depositing her gently onto the counter top with her injured foot in the sink. She has a small cut on the sole, bleeding freely. Frantically, I turn on the water and put her foot into the cold stream, carefully probing her flesh for any glass that might still be left in the wound.

"Edward, the blood..." she stammers but I shush her.

"I'm fine."

And I truly am, her blood posing no temptation at all. My throat is burning like the fires of hell but there is nothing that could compel me to give in to the monster that lives inside me. She is too important to me, my love for her too strong.

I find no glass shards in her skin and that lets me breathe again. Grabbing a clean towel off the shelf, I softly wrap her foot in it, putting pressure on the wound for a minute to staunch the bleeding.

"I'll be right back," I say and dash down to the kitchen where Esme keeps the first aid kit. Bella hasn't moved by the time I get back and seems quite content to let me doctor her up, her eyes moving from my face to my hands and back as I glance at her.

When her foot is bandaged to my satisfaction, I lift her off the sink and carry her to the bed, setting her down gently. And then I stand before her with my eyes cast down and my hands behind my back.

"You were breathing the whole time," she observes quietly after a time and I nod. "Does...my blood not tempt you anymore?"

"No," I reply softly.

"Oh," she says, sounding disappointed. "Is it...because of the drugs?"

"No," I hasten to explain, raising my eyes to look at her. "Your blood smells as enticing as always but it no longer has the pull it once had. Your scent...it has a different meaning to me now."

Her expression becomes questioning and compels me to answer.

"It means you're alive and here with me, and I couldn't ever do anything that would jeopardize that small blessing. I love you, Bella, so much so that I would rather die than hurt you."

"But you _have_ hurt me..."

"Yes," I agree, my voice rough with emotions, "I have. I will regret my words and actions for as long as I live. I lied to you that day and denied us both the future we wanted. I realize there is nothing I can do or say to make you believe me, but I am _so sorry_. I'll do anything you want me to, anything you need..."

I trail off as her eyes overflow with tears.

"All I needed was you, Edward," she cries and my frozen heart breaks into tiny pieces at the raw pain in her voice. "I still need you, after all this time."

"Bella...?" My voice catches at her confession, turning her name into a question. She shrugs, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Pathetic," she mutters as if to herself, wrapping her arms around her torso. It's a posture I recognize; she uses it often. My arms ache to hold her, but I don't know if the gesture would be welcome so I remain where I am until otherwise invited.

"Bella?" I try again, hoping against all odds that perhaps I might be permitted to offer her some comfort. "May I...sit down with you?"

"How can you still love me, Edward?" she whispers without answering my question. "How can you still want me, after what I've done?"

It's my turn to shrug. "Whatever you did was ultimately caused by my lies to you. The fault is mine. The question is rather if _you_ can possibly still love _me_ after all the pain I've put you through."

When her eyes find mine again, my breath sticks in my throat because the answer is right there in the deep chocolate pools.

"I think I can," she breathes, and hope, that small things with feathers, unfolds its wings and flutters inside my heart.

"Truly?" I dare not breathe, a desperate man starving for her answer

After a moment's hesitation, Bella nods decisively. "Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>Endnote:<strong> Thank you for reading. Please leave a review. :)

And if you need something else to read, please try the stories below.

The Best Things In Life Are Unexpected by U2Shay

Highway to Hell by Bella's Executioner

Until next time,

TMOT


	4. Shattered

**Author's Note:** This chapter was originally included the Fandom4Children compilation. If you donated to that worthy cause, thank you!

In this chapter, Bella visits Charlie's grave and finally hears the truth about that day in September.

Beta services were provided by Shelikesthesound and Caius09. Thanks, girls!

**Disclaimer:** All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing in the world she created.

* * *

><p><strong>4. Shattered <strong>

_Frozen inside without your touch_  
><em>Without your love, darling<em>  
><em>Only you are the life among the dead<em>

_All this time I can't believe I couldn't see_  
><em>Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me<em>  
><em>I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems<em>  
><em>Got to open my eyes to everything<em>  
><em>Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul<em>  
><em>Don't let me die here<em>  
><em>There must be something more<em>  
><em>Bring me to life<em>

_ooo~~~OOO~~~ooo_

_Evanescence – Bring Me To Life_

**Edward**

Hope blossoms inside my frozen heart as she pats the mattress, inviting me to sit down. I lower myself to the bed, one foot on the floor, the other resting off the edge. My hands lie palms open on my thighs, and I tremble with my need to hold her.

Bella's eyes have not left mine, and when she raises herself up to crawl closer, my arms automatically open wide. She curls up in my lap, her fingers gripping my shirt, and I gently pull her against me. She tenses minutely but then slowly relaxes into my embrace, burrowing her face into my neck. Her warm breath spills onto my skin. Tremors run through my body.

I am afraid to disturb the sudden silence after her proclamation, though my thoughts are racing. She still loves me, she just said, confirming what Jasper has hinted at for the last few weeks, but I can barely believe it.

Slowly, my head drops towards her hair, and I take a deep breath, inhaling her scent. My throat is on fire, but I revel in the burn. She's here in my arms, allowing my touch, and I would gladly burn for the rest of my existence in thanks for this moment.

Bella takes a deep breath.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?"

"I want to go to Forks. I want to see my father's grave. I guess he's buried there?"

"Of course," I reply. "When do you want to go? Who...who would you like to go with you? I can ask Jasper or-"

"Would you go with me?" she interrupts.

"Yes, if that's what you want, I would be glad to drive you."

"Tomorrow?"

"If you feel up to it, we can go whenever you like," I say. "Though, if you want me to enter the cemetery with you, I'd need to check with Alice first about the weather."

"Yeah, sure." She falls silent for a while, and I quietly sit with her while she collects her thoughts.

"Edward? What happened to the house?"

"I would imagine it's yours now, since you're his only heir. I can ask Jasper to make an inquiry if you'd like."

"Okay."

"And we will take care of anything that needs to be done," I add. "Any outstanding taxes or fees."

I can feel her tense in my arms the moment those words leave my mouth.

"He had a life insurance policy, as far as I know." Her voice is icy. "If I'm his heir, that money is now mine, so I will pay for any debts myself."

I know better than to argue. "As you wish. Would you like me to ask Jasper to make those arrangements?"

She nods as her anger dissipates and relaxes again. "Yeah. So, tomorrow?"

"What time would you like to leave?"

We arrive in Forks late the next afternoon, just as the sun disappears behind thick clouds rolling in from the west. I pull into the cemetery parking lot and turn off the engine before turning toward Bella, who looks tiny in the passenger seat. She's pale and quiet; she has been the entire drive from Hoquiam to Forks, her only movement the continuous twisting of her hands in her lap.

I wait for her to give me instructions as to what she wants me to do – wait for her in the car or accompany her to her father's grave. A shudder goes through her entire body before she straightens her back and reaches for the door handle.

"I'm ready," she announces as she glances at me. "Will you come with me?"

I'm out of the car and at her side before the echo of her words evaporates. Foolish, I know, but the place is void of other people, and I'm sure nobody has seen me move. I hold out my hand to help her out of the car, delighted when she accepts the offer. She doesn't let go of my hand as we make our way through the small cemetery and to the grave site.

Charlie's grave looks well-taken care of. A vase, half-buried in the ground, holds a bouquet of flowers that has not yet had a chance to wilt. It appears the townsfolk have not forgotten their late Chief. Bella stands quietly beside me, her head bowed, clutching my hand in a death grip. I can smell the tears running down Bella's face and long for the right to comfort her grief with my embrace.

It's not difficult to see she's trying to hold herself together but failing miserably. She is trembling, the vibrations of her body shooting into mine through our connected hands, and it is only because of my reflexes that I catch her before she falls to her knees. I drop to mine and sit on my feet, holding her against me as she sobs out her pain.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm so sorry. I love you. Forgive me. I'm so sorry."

I hold her helplessly as she cries for what seems like hours. Eventually, her sobs turn to sniffles, and I reach into my pocket, offering her my handkerchief. She makes to get up, letting me assist her.

"Let's go back," she says as she stuffs the sodden hanky into her pocket. "We can come back here again, right?"

"Of course," I hasten to assure her. "Any time you like; just let me know."

"Bye, Dad," she whispers and turns towards the car. I follow behind, opening the door for her when we reach the vehicle.

She's just as silent on the way home.

"I'm heading out to the garden," she says as I pull into the garage. "Would you ask Esme to come out there?"

I do my best to tamp down the rejection that fills me. "As you wish."

Three days later, she has yet to ask for me. I lurk around the hallway by her room when she's in there, making myself available any time she exits her space, but she doesn't appear to want to spend time with me. Instead, she's sitting in the kitchen as Esme makes her meals and disappears with Jasper for one of their sessions. He's been taking her to a small clearing in the forest, outside of the reach of my ability so I cannot listen in.

I have to give my brother credit, I suppose – he's revealed nothing of their conversations, something I know Bella requested, but it leaves me without any kind of knowledge of her mental or emotional state. Selfishly, I want her to talk to me, though I know I don't deserve it.

When they return from their latest excursion, Bella's eyes are rimmed in red. Jasper rubs her back gently, before she walks inside without a word to me. My eyes follow her until she closes the door, and as the lock clicks, Jasper growls. I barely have enough time to dodge his fist as he jumps towards me.

"You fucking asshole!"

I'm on my feet in a fighting stance less than a second later, my fists raised defensively when he springs at me again. I step to the side at the last moment, and he lands on the ground behind me with another growl. My instincts rise to the surface when I catch a glimpse of why he's so angry with me.

I collapse to my knees and bury my face in my hands, falling to the side as he kicks my ribs repeatedly. I'm whimpering pathetically, though not from the pain of his attack. It's the pain in Bella's face that renders me immobile as he shows me over and over what she has revealed to him today.

"Get up, you sick son of a bitch. I want to beat your face in. Come on, get up."

"What is going on here?" Carlisle demands as he steps out the door, coming to investigate our fight. "Jasper? Edward?"

I can't speak; the guilt and shame are too overwhelming, but Jasper has no such problems.

"Do you know what he told that poor girl when he left her? Do you know, Carlisle?"

Puzzled, Carlisle looks between Jasper and me. "I assume he told her what he told us when we agreed to leave – that it was better for Bella because he didn't want this life for her."

"Ha!" Jasper bellows. "Not quite. This fucktard here told her she wasn't good enough for us; that he didn't want her, and he was tired of pretending for her."

In my mind, I see Carlisle's eyes nearly bug out of his head as his expression changes from surprise to anger to utter devastation rapidly.

"Is this true, Edward?"

I can only nod.

"Jasper, get the rest of the family together, please. This is information we all need. No wonder she's been so hesitant to invite us back in."

Jasper disappears inside, gloating as he calls out to Alice and makes a quick call to Emmett and Rose.

Fifteen minutes later, we are gathered around the never-used dining room table – all eight of us.

I sit in the chair next to Esme, while Bella has chosen the one farthest away from me. I can't say I blame her. I don't like myself much right now, either. My head is in my hands again, shame preventing me from facing my family.

"What's going on?" Emmett asks, looking around confused at the morose expressions Carlisle, Jasper and, now, Alice are wearing. She's been shooting angry glares in my direction I don't dare return. I've fucked up royally, and soon, they will all know the callous words I threw at Bella that horrid day in the woods.

Carlisle sighs, debating internally how to phrase the damning words I uttered so many months ago.

"Is it true, Edward?" Esme asks quietly, having heard Jasper's earlier accusations. "Did you really tell Bella she wasn't good enough?"

Again, I can only nod as the shame and guilt burn away my insides. The pain is so much worse than the fire of my change, and it is hard to breathe.

"He did _what_?" Emmett booms, and suddenly, everyone is on their feet, my family's minds screaming at me, as he launches himself clear across the table, knocking me out of the chair and onto the floor. His fists are pummeling my face, and I don't even bother defending myself as he yells and hits me repeatedly. I deserve it. I deserve so much worse than what he can dish out.

"Stop," Esme and Bella shout simultaneously, though it is Carlisle who yanks Emmett off me. Rosalie, Jasper, Alice – they all look down at me with disdain – but soon enough, everyone is back in their respective chairs.

"Violence will solve nothing here," Esme states firmly, anger in her eyes. "Get up, Edward. Now, let us discuss this as the adults we proclaim to be." She turns to Bella, and her expression changes to sorrow.

"Sweetie, I am so sorry. We had no idea, but I hope you realize it isn't true. You _are_ worth it." She gets up and walks around the table to Bella's chair, before kneeling in front of her and reaching for her hands, squeezing them in hers. The silence is deafening, the only sounds filling the room are Bella's rapid breaths and heartbeat.

"We should never have left, never have agreed to Edward's demands. I assumed he explained to you why he felt it necessary to leave. None of us knew of the hurtful words he used instead. Can you possibly forgive us? We _want_ you here. You're part of the family. I hope you know that."

After a long moment, Bella nods and graces Esme with a small smile, before looking towards me. "I just want to know why," she whispers. All eyes are on me as I drop my hands into my lap and return her gaze.

"Why did you lie to me, Edward? Why did you use my insecurities against me?" Her voice holds so much anger, but there is also pain – oh God, so much pain, all caused by my unforgivable lies.

"I didn't want to," I blurt, and then the truth bursts out of me. "It felt like it would kill me to do it, but I had to try, just to keep you from the danger my world exposed to you. I tried to explain that it was to keep you safe, to give you the life I wanted for you, with marriage and children and all the human experiences I couldn't give to you. I could see, though, you didn't believe me, that you wouldn't let me go, and in that moment, all I could think to do was to feed you those horrible lies. I didn't think you would take me at my words, not after all the times I'd told you I loved you, but I saw it in your eyes – the moment you bought into what I was telling you. None of it was true, you _have_ to believe me – I've _never_ stopped loving you. I never will. It's me who's not good enough. I'm so sorry, Bella, so very sorry."

My head falls forward, and tearless sobs are heaving from my chest. Guilt and shame are crushing me. All the bad things that have happened to Bella since I left her – the drug use, her weight loss, the men she sold herself to, and the fact that she still believes I don't love her – can be blamed solely on my actions.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."

Nobody says a word, at least not out loud, but I shrink into myself under the onslaught of accusations and curses that are flung in my direction. Ever so intuitive, Esme snaps her fingers and glares at my siblings, and the room clears, leaving only Bella and me.

I focus on her heartbeat, her breathing, and wait for her to tell me to go to hell. She doesn't realize that I'm already there, and have been since I walked away from her.

"What happens now?" Her voice sounds so small, and my dead heart clenches at the anguish that is laced within her words. The fight seems to have gone out of her, and she appears resigned.

"I don't know," I reply with honesty because my whole existence lies in her small hands. "It's up to you. What do you want to happen?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. Mostly, I wonder what will happen when I'm healthy again. I know you said you won't leave, but..." she trails off and raises her eyes to mine. "I can't help but wonder if this is temporary."

I keep my gaze steady as I make my promise. "I will be by your side until you order me away. You are my everything, Bella. _Everything_. What can I do to prove to you I will never leave you again, unless it is at your command?"

"I'm afraid to trust your words, Edward," she says. "For so long, I thought you didn't love me anymore, that I wasn't worth it. And now you're here, and I'm scared to believe you."

**Bella**

I've never seen Edward so hunched in on himself, and that is what makes me finally see he suffered just as much as I have while we've been apart. Whether I will find the strength to fully trust him again I do not know yet. Still, seeing him so broken, I'm willing to give it my best shot.

"I want to try moving forward," I say quietly. "Rebuild this, if you're willing. I'd like to have some ground rules, though."

"Anything," he agrees immediately, looking at me with hopeful eyes. "Whatever you want."

I grit my teeth as my anger rises again. "No! It's not whatever the fuck _I_ want, Edward. Nor is it only what _you_ want. Don't you fucking get it? We need to figure out how to make decisions _together_. At least the ones that affect us both."

He flinches at my harsh words, but I can't find it in me to regret them. I know, without a doubt, this is a crucial moment for both of us. I'm sick of the lies, of the omissions, and of him thinking he knows what's best for me. I'm no longer the innocent, naïve girl he knew three years ago, and if that's who he's expecting to show up again, he'll be very disappointed.

"Look," I say, reining in my anger, "I'm not saying we have to figure it out today. I just need your assurance you won't go running off again when the going gets tough, alright? I need...I need your promise you'll stick it out this time and talk to me about what's going on inside your head. If you can't do that, Edward, then there's nothing left to say. In that case, you should have left me where you found me."

His reaction is immediate. "How can you _say_ that?" he snarls, his eyes shooting daggers at me. "How can you regard your precious life so callously? I need you, Bella, in case that isn't clear yet. I fucking _need_ you."

With every word, he's moving closer to where I'm sitting at the other end of the table. When he reaches me, he falls to his knees and buries his head in my lap, his arms around my waist. Automatically, my hands drop into his hair, curling into the bronze strands.

"There's no life for me without you," he whimpers. "These last few years, I've simply existed, miserably at that. I need you. I need you so much. What can I do? Tell me what to do, Bella. Please...please...I'll change you if you still want that, whenever you want. I just need to be with you, always, forever. Help me get back what we had, please...please...I love you, I love you so fucking much..."

I don't notice I'm crying until the tears fall into his hair. I guess he can smell them, because he lifts his head, staring at my face. I have no clue what he sees, but apparently it's enough for him to lift himself up and pull me against his chest. His lips roam over my face, kissing away the tears, and when he reaches my mouth, he covers my lips with a groan.

My arms wrap around his neck, my hands still buried in his hair. His tongue flicks impatiently against my mouth, and with a moan low in my throat, I let go and open to him. I've never kissed another man, not even when I was drugged to the gills and spreading my legs for more. And Edward has certainly never kissed me like _this_. My legs wrap around his waist as he rises up, one arm supporting my ass, the other firmly cradling the back of my neck. He's growling, and it sends delicious shivers down my spine. Lost in him, I vaguely notice that we're moving out of the dining room, toward the stairs, ending up in my room, on my bed. His body covers mine; my legs are still wrapped around him, pulling him against me. The intimacy of this moment, something that was always forbidden before, is not lost on me.

I can't get enough of him, and he seems to feel the same about me. When his hips start moving rhythmically against me, I can feel his cock between my legs, hard and long and thick. For a moment, I want to give in to the temptation, but the more sensible part of me realizes we're getting ahead of ourselves. Ironic as it is, I'm the one to stop us from going farther than we should. There's still too much we need to figure out, and a quick, desperate fuck we'll regret right after is not what needs to happen right now.

But oh, how I want it.

It takes a great deal of willpower to pull back from his mouth, but I manage to squeeze out a whispered "Stop." Instantly, his weight is gone, and when my eyes open, I see him flattened against the far wall. His expression is horrified, and the bulge in his jeans is still very prominent.

I lick my lips.

His eyes widen.

"Come back here," I say as I raise myself into a sitting position, with my feet tucked under my ass, patting the cover beside me. "You did nothing wrong."

I watch him as he slowly pushes away from the wall and sits down across from me, dangling one leg off the bed.

"I feel like I should apologize for my actions," he says, focusing on my swollen lips, "but I'm not sorry for kissing you like that."

"Neither am I," I reply evenly. His eyes flash up to mine.

"I want you, Bella. God help me, but I want you. In every way possible, whichever way you'll let me."

"I seem to remember you saying that sex wasn't going to be possible for us." I know I'm pushing him, but I need to know if he truly means what he's confessing to.

His eyes drop to his lap before he looks up again and stares into mine. "I know I said that, Bella, and a part of me still worries I might hurt you, but at this point, I'll do anything, give you anything, if it means I get to keep you in my life. Anything. I've realized a lot of things I thought to be true are not so true anymore."

Relief floods through me at his words, and I think it's only fair to give him some relief of his own.

"I'm glad you said that, Edward," I reply as I reach for his hands and suppress a smile when he immediately entwines my fingers with his own, "but even though I may _want_ to have sex with you, I think we both know we're nowhere near ready for it. Our relationship is completely fucked up, and us having sex isn't gonna fix it."

"I know that, Bella, and I'm so very sorry. What do you want me to do? How can I make this right again?"

I shrug. "I dunno. We can't start over, because I'm not that girl anymore. And you've changed, too."

He nods. "I guess I have. Can we...would you...do you truly want to move forward, Bella? May I...perhaps ask you out on a date?"

I surprise myself by giggling. "A date? Like what?"

There's a small smile playing around his lips, and his golden eyes shimmer. "Perhaps a movie? Or a picnic? Whatever you'd like – it would be your choice. Is that a yes?"

My eyes glued to his, a smile forms on my face, while hope flutters in my stomach. I'm starting to believe what he's telling me, and while it scares me to open myself up, there's only one answer I'm able to give him.

"Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>Endnote:<strong> Thank you for reading. Please leave a review if you're so inclined. The next chapter is nearly written and will be in the Fandom4NKH (No Kid Hungry) compilation that's coming out on 6/10/12. I will post the chapter on 7/22/12.


	5. Renewal

**Runaway Train**

**Author's Note: **If you donated to the Fandom4NKH compilation, you got to read this early! Thanks for supporting this worthy cause. For the rest of you, here's chapter 5. We last saw Bella and Edward after the family meeting, slowly starting to reconnect. And now it's time for a date. And more talking. Enjoy! More at the bottom.

Beta services were provided by Caius09. Thanks, girl! You rock!

Chapter songs: Please Forgive Me – Bryan Adams, Journey – Open Arms, Righteous Brothers – Unchained Melody

**Disclaimer:** All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I'm just playing in the world she created.

* * *

><p><strong>5. Renewal<strong>

_Please forgive me, I know not what I do**  
><strong>Please forgive me, I can't stop loving you**  
><strong>Don't deny me, this pain I'm going through**  
><strong>Please forgive me, if I need you like I do**  
><strong>Please believe me, every word I say is true**  
><strong>Please forgive me, I can't stop loving you_

_Bryan Adams – Please forgive me_

ooo~~~OOO~~~ooo

* * *

><p><strong>Bella<strong>

I have a date with Edward this afternoon.

I can hardly believe it, but he's invited me to a picnic, asking that I dress comfortably and not worry about anything else.

I have a date with Edward.

Ever since our talk a few days ago, things have changed dramatically.

When Jasper prodded me gently during our last session to explain the guilt he was sensing from me, I burst into tears and finally confessed how ashamed I was that they had to put their life on hold to take care of me. And how scared I was that they would all leave me again. He insisted they wouldn't, and that prompted me to tell him what Edward had said that day in the woods.

Jasper was appalled and so very angry on my behalf. He assured me that they didn't feel that way at all, that I was his little sister and thus part of the family, and that he would set the record straight when we returned to the house.

I guess he did.

From the window, I watched him lay into Edward, and after the confrontation had moved to the dining room and turned into a family meeting, I was convinced that Edward had really lied to me on that horrible day.

I just didn't understand why.

Now, I know. Edward's moral code, thinking that by being with me, he would rob me of a normal human life, and his fear for my soul wouldn't let him keep me back then. I can't help but wonder what has changed that he so freely offers me immortality now. I suppose that's one of the things we need to talk about. Maybe our picnic this afternoon can be a good starting point.

Of course, once I tell him all the horrible things I've done in his absence, he's likely to be repulsed. I'm worried about talking about that part of my past, the drugs, the many men I spread my legs for to earn money for more drugs. My shame is at times overwhelming.

Jasper says that I should come clean with Edward, that they know the gist of it, and that my past doesn't matter to any of them.

That Edward loves me, no matter what.

Until three days ago, I didn't believe the possibility.

I guess now I'm a bit more inclined to trust his words. And maybe, just maybe we can start over.

Slowly, of course.

But holy shit, just the thought feeling him hard and ready against me is enough to make me go weak in the knees. We're not ready for sex, nothing much beyond kissing, but I want it. I want him. I want to feel him between my legs, want to feel his cock surge up inside, fill me, make me come.

He's the only one who's ever made me _want_ to have sex. Just thinking about it makes me clench, but I shake off the thoughts and direct my brain onto a more productive path. Besides, Edward has made it very clear before that his strength will not allow for a sexual relationship between us. Not while I'm human.

I don't know if I'm ready yet to take him up on his offer to change me, especially since I don't know what caused his change of heart on that subject. It's something we'll need to talk about.

I hung out with Emmett for a while yesterday. Sweet, caring, boisterous Emmett. His reaction at the dining room table was unexpected, to say the least. I guess he does see me as his little sister, and he's like a big brother bear. It was fun playing video games with him, even though I totally sucked, and he beat me by a mile, but it made me feel comfortable to be around him. Included. Like he wants me here.

Then, there's Alice. I want to let her back in as well, but I haven't quite forgiven my best friend for her abandonment. She never even said good-bye. I don't know how to forgive her, but I also realize that at some point, I'll have to allow her to make amends. If that's what she wants.

An idea forms in my head, as I get out of bed to take a shower, and I make a very specific decision. If my assumption is correct, and she is watching, I should see her soon.

I stare at myself in the mirror while the hot water begins to fog up the shower walls. My arms no longer bear the bruises from the needles, but my hipbones and ribs still show. My boobs are smaller than they used to be, though I can tell they've grown slightly since I've started to gain back the weight I've lost over the last three years. And my nails have grown back from where Esme cut them. I've only recently found out that I scratched myself bloody when I first started to come off the drugs.

Carlisle hopes to reduce my daily methadone dose even further. He wants to wean me off completely within the next three months. I don't miss the drugs per se, but I do on occasion miss the high and the moments of complete peace they gave me. When everything just fell away, and I could simply float away from all the pain and the mess I've made out of my life.

Still, I want to beat the addiction, and with as much progress as I've made so far, I'm very hopeful that I'll be successful.

The hot water is soothing. I quickly wash and condition my hair, before shaving my legs and pits. I have no idea who's been buying my favorite body wash, but every empty bottle is miraculously replaced with a fresh one so I'm never out. I inhale deeply as the scent of freesias blooms under the water's steam, and the foamy bubbles run down my body.

Simple pleasures mean so much these days.

When I'm done, I wrap a towel around my hair before drying off and putting on a matching set of underwear, which also miraculously appeared in my drawers. From the closet, I choose a pretty shirt and a pair of jeans, and slide my feet into a pair of ballet slippers.

I step back into my room with my hair still in the towel, and, as expected, there's a knock on my door.

"It's open."

I've never seen Alice look so timid. I didn't expect that. It's a stark difference from the exuberant vampire girl I remember. "Hi," she says, "I...uh, I sort of saw your decision."

I keep my eyes on her steadily. "Uh huh. Come in. It's time you and I had a chat. You can do my hair while we talk. If you want."

She smiles warily and holds up a woven basket filled with all kinds of beauty supplies. "I came prepared."

"Good," I nod and sit down at the dressing table. "I hoped you would."

Alice walks up behind me and catches my eyes in the mirror. "Bella, I'm sorry, so sorry. I failed you, and I'm so very sorry. If I had known what would happen...if I had seen..."

Her eyes, a dark ocher, are sad; her expression is full of remorse, and suddenly I realize how much I've missed my best friend. "Why didn't you?"

"He demanded that I not look for your future," she whispers. "I only saw glimpses, and those didn't tell me anything other than that you weren't happy. I tried to tell him so many times, but he wouldn't listen. He insisted that you would forget about him, about us."

I shake my head, staring at her reflection. "Why am I not surprised?"

She just shrugs and returns my gaze.

"Where is he now? Is he listening?"

"No, he went hunting with Jasper. I kind of told them to go when I saw you inviting me in this morning. Not that I would care if he heard, to be honest, but I also saw that you would prefer he not be in the house for this."

"I appreciate it," I say as I pull the towel from my hair. "So, how come you saw me right before he showed up to _rescue_ me?"

"I saw you die, Bella. From an overdose."

The blunt words tear at me, clawing their way into my gut. A few months ago, death would have been welcome, but I no longer feel that way. I'm filled with gratitude as I turn around on the low stool and open my arms.

Alice falls to her knees in front of me, and then it's all hard vampire body and her sweet scent. Fuck, I missed my best friend. The tears come.

"You didn't even say good-bye," I choke out. "I missed you so goddamn much."

"I missed you too," she replies. "I'm so sorry. He wouldn't allow it, and as much as he's done for me, I couldn't deny him."

"Yeah, I get that, but I'm still so fucking disappointed with you. You were my _best friend_, Alice, and friends don't just fucking abandon each other."

"You're absolutely right," she says and pulls back to sit on her feet. "Do you think you can forgive me, maybe sometime in the future?"

I can't help the teasing grin that forms on my face, when she makes it sound like she doesn't know the answer. "What, like you haven't foreseen that, oh fortune teller?"

Alice tentatively grins back at me. "Not until you make that decision."

I reach inside myself and decide to let go of the useless anger. It serves no purpose, and holding on to it won't change what happened in the past three years.

Her smile is suddenly brilliant.

I guess she saw that.

As I turn around on the stool to face the mirror again, I point at my still wet hair. "Well?"

An hour and a half later, my hair is curling down my back, my face is lightly made up, and Alice and I are on our way to being girlfriends again. She's promising me a shopping trip to Olympia, adding that Edward and Jasper would accompany us, if I agree. Tactfully, she avoids talking about my life in Seattle.

One more thing to look forward to. Getting out of the house will be good for me. She even agreed to me having veto rights on anything outrageous.

We also discuss Charlie, and Alice apologizes again, for not having seen that either. I'm not blaming her for it. The pain is still too raw, and I quickly change subjects when it becomes too much.

"I should probably call Renee at some point," I say, thinking about my mother. "I haven't talked to her either since I left Forks. I just don't know what to tell her about where I've been. Maybe it's just easier if I don't..."

Alice is silent as I organize my thoughts. Renee and I drifted apart even before Edward left me, and after he was gone, the rift became ever wider, especially after I threw her out of my room in Forks when she threatened to take me back to Florida with her. She didn't come for my graduation, and I didn't expect her to, either.

And with that, my thoughts drift to my father. Tears spring to my eyes.

"I assume she's heard about Charlie. Am I on some missing persons list? Does she think I'm dead? Is she even still in Florida? Oh God, I've been so selfish..."

As I dissolve into guilty tears once again, Alice's arms come around me, offering silent support. I've brought these points up with Jasper before, and his advice was much the same as the one Alice now gives me.

"If you haven't spoken to her in that long, perhaps it would be easier to simply fake your death. You've been off the grid for a while anyway. We checked the missing persons reports, but you weren't listed. It's up to you, though, Bella. If you want to claim the house in Forks, you have to stay officially alive for now. I'm sure we can come up with some cover story why you haven't called her. Why you've been out of touch that you didn't even know about Charlie. Though, doing so would only delay the inevitable."

It's that last statement that jolts me off her shoulder where I've been crying. "What? What are you saying?"

Alice smirks. "Oh, please, Bella – he's done a one-eighty about changing you. And I know he's told you, so don't act all surprised."

"He said he would, but...I'm not that girl anymore, the one he fell in love with. I'm damaged now."

"Aren't we all in some way?" she replies. "Look at me – the crazy reject, sent to an asylum by her own family. Or take Jasper. Has he told you anything about his history?"

I nod. He told me the story of how he was made and lived for nearly one hundred years until he finally found Alice.

Alice, who healed him. I wonder if Edward and I can do the same for each other. Maybe he's just as damaged as I am, just in a different way. Still, I'm afraid to talk to him about the details of those two years I was caught up in drugs and prostitution. Afraid that it will disgust him, and that he will discard me, like he did before.

How can I trust him again?

I guess only time will tell.

**Edward**

I've just returned from hunting with Jasper. We talked. I've forgiven him, and he has forgiven me, both of us having come to an understanding about circumstances beyond our control and my foolish mistakes. I understand now that his anger towards me is fueled by his own guilt, and the many things Bella has revealed to him. Not that he's let on about anything in detail, but I've seen enough in his mind to know that her story has profoundly affected him.

We've made up, so to speak, during the hunt. He slaps my back as he heads up the stairs to his room, and I make my way into the kitchen, where Esme is busily preparing the picnic feast I have planned for my date with Bella.

From her thoughts, I see that Bella came down earlier to eat a quick breakfast. She's outside now; her familiar heartbeat is like a beacon calling me to the small garden alcove she has created for herself.

"Do you need any help?"

Esme shakes her head, smiling warmly. She's not angry with me, thankfully, just disappointed and very concerned about my happiness and Bella's. Which is why she offered to assist me with the picnic basket, hoping that this date will be the first step in renewing our relationship.

"I'm almost finished. Go wash off the hunt, and I'll have it all ready for you."

I kiss her cheek. "Thank you."

She smiles again and waves me off.

In my room, I discard my clothes and pull a fresh set from my closet before walking into the bathroom. After a quick shower, I dress and then set up a playlist on my iPod. I make a mental note to pack the portable speakers.

I'm nervous. Excited.

I have a date with Bella.

I can hardly wait. It's my chance to show her I'm sincere about wanting her, about loving her, about needing her to be with me always. I have so much to say to her, yet I know I need to pace myself so as to not overwhelm her.

I want to make her mine for always, but I fully realize that we're nowhere near close to having that discussion yet. And I need to control the baser instincts of the seventeen year old boy inside me, who wants nothing more than a repeat performance of the passionate embrace that happened in her room after the confrontation with the family three days ago. I'm thankful that she stopped us, that much is true, but that gratitude does not prevent my mind from exploring this passion further.

We're not ready, but somehow I know that when we are, despite my fears of hurting her, I will not give her the impression that I don't want her that way. Time has given me the opportunity to think about all our interactions before I left her, and I know now that telling her a physical relationship wasn't possible between us must have hurt her.

And I want her, all of her, in any way possible, in every way she'll let me. As long as I don't kill her in the process. While my fears persists, I have begun to understand that I cannot make arbitrary decisions for both of us, without her input. That's exactly what put me into this mess in the first place, and I'm not that slow of a leaner, so this is a mistake I definitely won't repeat.

When the playlist is finished, I'm out of things to do, so I sit on my couch to read for a while. The book doesn't hold my attention for long, and I start pacing my room. We've decided on two o'clock, and it's only half past twelve.

Perhaps some flowers would be appropriate. In my human time, a young man courting would certainly have brought a token with him when picking up his date. The idea planted in my head, I dash downstairs and into the garage for a quick drive into town.

At the florist, I select a bouquet of daisies, Bella's favorite flowers, and next door, in the drugstore, I purchase a small box of chocolates. Small, because I'm fairly certain that she's still reluctant to let me spend money on her. Not that I've asked her, an oversight I plan to rectify sooner rather than later. It's become clear to me that open and honest communication might just be the key to get us back on track.

When I get back home, it's nearly time. I check the clock repeatedly until I hear Bella come into the house and walk up to her room. A minute before two o'clock, I am knocking on her door, flowers and chocolates in hand.

When she opens her door, a lump forms in my throat, and I lose my ability to speak. She's so damn beautiful, her long hair flowing in curls down her back, her brown eyes soft, but with a hint of apprehension.

"Bella," I finally manage to say after my eyes have shamelessly roamed from her face to her feet and back up, "you look exquisite."

Her answering smile is blinding. "Thank you."

"Here, I brought you these." I hold out the flowers and chocolates for her.

"They're beautiful," she says and brings the flowers to her nose to inhale their clean scent. "Thank you so much. Oh, and pralines, too?"

I'm beaming while I nod. "Yes, I thought you might like something sweet."

"Sweeter than you?"

My mouth drops open at the suggestive tone in her voice. Bella blushes furiously and slaps her free hand over her mouth.

"Fuck! I'm sorry," she mumbles from behind her hand.

I don't know what to say in response to her comment, so I proceed with something safe. "Ready to go?"

"Uhm, yes. I just need to get my jacket."

I enter her room and put the box of pralines on her nightstand, then hold out my hand in invitation. We walk downstairs together, the flowers in the crook of her arm. In the kitchen, I procure a vase for her, and then take the picnic basket off the counter. Esme has gone to her craft room. I say a quick thanks, knowing she can hear me.

I lead Bella to the garage and open the car door for her. While she settles in, I put the basket in the trunk and then get into the car.

"Where are we going?" she asks when I start the engine.

"There's a small lake not far from here. It's not a tourist spot, but rather secluded. I thought you might like to have our picnic there."

What I don't tell her is that I've cleared an area by the shore, with Emmett's help, and that he's built a bench for her to sit on.

Yes, Emmett and I have also cleared the air. Even Rosalie is speaking to me again, having let go of her anger. Not that it was initially directed at me, per se, but more at the affects my leaving had on Bella. The few things Alice has told us, especially the initially forced prostitution, hit Rosalie hard, and it has softened her heart toward Bella, something I'm immensely grateful for, even if the reason behind it is horrific. It's a strange feeling, but I'm glad either way.

Now I just need to work on winning back the love of my existence. I know I have my work cut out for me, after having crushed and trampled her trust, but ever since our kiss in the dining room a few days ago, and our subsequent talk in her bedroom, hope is blooming inside me more fiercely than ever.

I'm willing to do whatever it takes, be whatever she needs, and I'll be eternally grateful that she is even considering starting over.

A hot hand covers mine on the gear stick, followed by a soft squeeze. I turn my head and find her eyes focused on me. She's smiling, and happiness burns like a fire in my dried out veins.

"Tell me more about this lake," she says. "I haven't really been outside in so long. Well, other than the backyard."

"I'd be glad to take you out more often, if you like. There are some good trails not far from the house, that would lend themselves nicely for a nature walk. Or perhaps, you'd like to go to Olympia?"

"I promised Alice to let her take me shopping. Apparently, you and Jasper will be roped into coming with us?"

"I'd love to," I reply happily. "We could make a day of it."

"Yeah, maybe. With you and Jasper there, I might even stand a chance of stopping Hurricane Alice. It's not like I need much anyway, and I still get tired a lot."

I frown. "Oh. Why haven't you said anything?"

Bella shrugs. "It's the methadone, I think."

"Have you asked Carlisle about it?" I inquire, worrying because I haven't seen anything in this thoughts to indicate any medical issues. He's concerned that she hasn't gained enough weight yet, but I know the methadone has the side effect of suppressing a person's natural appetite.

"Yeah. He said it was normal, and not to worry. He hopes to have me weaned off by September."

That makes me feel better, and my worries cease slightly. "How do you feel about that?"

She shrugs again. "It'll be nice not to have to take it anymore."

"Any cravings?"

This earns me a glare. "What the hell, Edward? That's a really stupid question. Yeah, I have cravings. How about you? Still craving my blood?" Her tone is sarcastic, deservedly so.

She huffs and withdraws her hand to her lap, turning her head to look out the window. I feel stupid, and my mind is racing while I contemplate how to make up for being such a moron. Honesty might work, at least I hope so.

"I'm sorry, that _was_ a really stupid question," I reply softly. "And yes. I do. "

Her head whips around, and she's staring at me, an incredulous look on her face. I'm not sure why she would doubt it, though it's not like I have to fight my thirst around her anymore. I crave her blood, yes, but not to the point where I have to check myself the way I used to.

"It's not something that will ever change, Bella," I admit easily. "I am a vampire, and you are my singer."

"Your singer? What does that mean?"

"La Cantante, Carlisle calls it. It's an expression he heard in Italy. There is a theory among our kind, that each vampire has one singer, one human whose blood is calling to that vampire like nothing else."

"Like heroin?"

I nod, remembering having described it to her like that once. "Yes. That analogy is still quite accurate."

"But you don't wanna bite me anymore." It's a simple statement, but she most likely has no idea how profoundly I've been changed.

"No. Not for that purpose."

"Do you really want to change me?" she inquires softly, her eyes wide.

The answer is ridiculously easy this time around. I know I can't live without her, and I will no longer make decisions for her. If it is her wish, I will comply.

"I do. With your permission, whenever you like."

Her breath escapes in a rush, and her heart begins to pound. "I'm not ready."

"I know. There's no rush."

"But I'm getting older. I'm nearly twenty-two."

"And I'm a hundred and seven," I retort. "It makes no difference to me. Whenever you're ready, Bella. I will happily wait until then."

"What changed your mind?" she challenges. "Why are you agreeing to this now, when you refused me before?"

It's my turn to shrug. "I've lived without you for nearly three years. They were the most miserable years of my very long life, and I've learned that there _is_ no life for me without _you_."

"And my soul?"

I anticipated that question, considering how I harped about that point when we first started our relationship, and I have my answer ready without any hesitation.

"I still don't know what would happen to your soul, but I've realized it's not my decision to make. You said once that your soul is worth nothing to you, if you couldn't have me. So, if this is how you feel, I'm offering myself to you, unconditionally. If you still want me, if you still want forever, it's yours."

A long silence follows my statement, and I can feel her eyes on me as I focus on the road ahead of us. A small smile forms on my lips when her hand reaches out again to make contact with mine.

"I do."

* * *

><p><strong>Endnote:<strong> I did not research the side effects of methadone, so it acting as an appetite suppressant is possibly incorrect. For this story, I'm using that scenario nonetheless. Thank you for your donation to this worthy cause, and thank you for reading.

Chapter 6 will be included in the Back To School Fundraiser organized by Project Team Beta. Please consider donating to get the chapter early. You can find more information here (just remove the spaces):

projectteambeta back-to-school-fundraiser

I also want to take a moment and express my sincere condolences to the family and friends of TwifanG ( Mad4Hugh) who was tragically killed while attending Comic Con. The outpouring of love and support from the fandom was amazing, and I'm proud to be part of this fantastic group of people.

Until next time,

TMOT


	6. Blossoming

**Author's Note:** If you donated to the Back To School Fundraiser, you got to read this early. I'm now allowed to post it on my profile. Thank yous to Caius09 who beta'd this for me. All remaining errors are mine.

* * *

><p><strong>6. Blossoming<strong>

_Tell me how you've been_

_Tell what you've seen_

_Tell me that you'd like to see me too_

_'Cause my heart is full of no blood**  
><strong>_

_My cup is full of no love**  
><strong>_

_Couldn't take another sip even if I wanted_

_But it's not too late**  
><strong>_

_Not too late for love_

Norah Jones – It's Not Too Late

**Edward**

"I do."

The two words, spoken softly, reach my ears, and my world shifts on its axis, righting itself just a little more. Somewhere in the crevices of my mind, images flash, of Bella in a white dress saying those exact words to me. Images that were once my fantasies, showing me what may have come to pass, had I not been so horrendously stupid nearly three years ago.

The small fire that's been burning in my gut ever since she agreed to our date begins raging out of control, when I realize what she's really saying. Those two words, in answer to my question, are representative of what I haven't dared hope for, and I cannot help the smile breaking out on my face, threatening to reach my ears.

Her hand is still covering mine, the heat of her skin seeping into my stony skin and warming me from the outside in. I gently flip my hand over to capture her fingers with mine, and she rewards me by slipping them between my own.

Her heartbeat is steady, and her luscious fragrance permeates my car. I inhale deeply, and though the flames ravage my throat, I let them remind me that she's here with me, of her own free will.

After a few more minutes spent in comfortable silence, we reach the overgrown dirt path that leads to the lake. I park the car by the side of the road and look at Bella.

"The lake is a short walk from here, if you're up to it. If not, I'd be glad to carry you."

She smiles. "I think I can manage."

"Very well."

Letting go of her hand is almost too painful, but obviously necessary if I want to leave the car. And yet, I can't bring myself to relinquish the contact. Whether she sees my reluctance, I do not know, but her eyes flash with understanding, and then she gently extricates her fingers from mine. With a sigh, I open my door.

"Stay put," I say before I can help myself. Bella giggles quietly as I jog around the car, and the sound thaws another chunk of my frozen heart. I throw open her door and hold out my hand, grateful when she takes it and allows me to carefully pull her toward me. Unwilling to lose the contact, I lead her to the trunk to retrieve the basket.

Under a solid cloud cover, we walk slowly down the path toward the lake, hand in hand, neither of us talking, until we come to the section Emmett helped me clear. Blooms sway in the soft breeze, and the still waters glisten. Next to me, Bella sighs.

"It's beautiful, Edward. So peaceful."

"Not even half as beautiful as you."

Her smile falls.

"Don't fucking lie," she mutters harshly and pulls away. I reach out and grab her shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Bella, I wasn't lying. You've always been and _will_ always be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She huffs, looking away. "Whatever."

I drop the picnic basket and step in front of her, tilting her chin up with my fingers so I can see her eyes. "Look at me. Look into my eyes and see the truth. You are beautiful, always, to me."

Finally, she lifts her eyes to mine. I see the insecurity deep within and carefully stroke her cheek, willing her to believe me. Whether she sees my sincerity or not, I do not know, but after a few seconds her gaze softens and a small sigh escapes her lips. Her heart is beating rapidly, her fragrance envelops us, and I let my hand slide to her neck, grounding myself in its strong pulse under my fingers.

"I love you, Bella. My feelings for you are irrevocable and everlasting. I thought I had made that clear, but please forgive me if I've been remiss in telling you how much I adore you, and everything about you. I love your beautiful brown eyes – they are my window to your soul. I love your silken hair – its multitude of color and its softness between my fingers."

My hand slides to the back of her neck, my fingers reaching up into her scalp, caressing, reacquainting.

"I love your mind, your hidden thoughts that you sometimes share with me, your ability to reduce me to a heap of quivering stone with just a word and just a look. I love that you challenge me to be a better man. I want to be everything you dream of and everything you deserve, and I want to be by your side for the rest of our lives."

There are tears in her eyes, and I lower my lips to her eye lids, softly pressing a kiss on each, jubilant when she accepts my devotion.

Her arms come up and wrap around my waist as she steps forward and melts against me, her eyes wide and soft and deep.

"I want to kiss you, Bella. May I, please?"

I give her just enough time to nod before descending onto her luscious lips. My eyes close, as her unique flavor bursts on my tongue, and I can't help the moan that bubbles up from my throat when she kisses me back. Her lips open, and I accept her invitation immediately, invading her mouth, stroking my tongue against hers. She pushes herself closer, and my need for her makes itself known. I realize I am purring, but I can't find it within me to care.

There's a hunger in this kiss neither of us seems to be able to deny, and I realize that I will let her go as far as she wants to take this, when her hands pull the back of my shirt from my pants and slide hotly against my skin. Her scent changes, and I can smell that she is becoming aroused. It only spurs me on.

I am putty in her hands, and I will give her whatever she asks of me, my body included.

Eventually, it is Bella who breaks the kiss with a whimper, breathing hard. Her eyes open, softly shimmering.

"I need to tell you something," she says quietly. "I...I love you, too. And...and I think I'm ready to tell you about New York and all the shit before and since then."

My heart soars and falls at the same time. While I am ecstatic at hearing her say those three not so little words, half of me dreads the conversation she alluded to, while the other half knows it's a hurdle we have to clear before moving forward.

"Okay," I reply with a small smile. "I'm ready to listen. I can't promise you that I won't get angry about what happened to you, but please know that I don't hold any of it against you."

"How do you know what I'm most afraid of?"

"I know _you_, Bella. I can see the guilt in your eyes. I don't want to tell you how to feel, but please know that nothing you reveal will change how I feel about you. Besides, you accepted me as I am, including the horrible things I've done in my own past, so why wouldn't I extend the same courtesy to you? I love you. All of you."

Her eyes search mine, as if she is looking for a falsehood. When she finds none, she exhales and her heartbeat, rapid before, begins to slow down to her normal rhythm. More tears build in the corners of her eyes, and when they begin to fall, I gently brush them away with my thumbs.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. Come on, let's sit down by the lake."

I grab the picnic basket and hold out my hand, elated when her fingers again entwine with mine.

"Okay."

A few moments later, we sit side by side on the bench Emmett made out of a tree he uprooted, halved and sanded down to create a smooth surface. He even added a back to it. I offer Bella a bottle of water, and open it for her, when she accepts with a quiet thanks.

"Would you like to eat first?"

"No." She puts the bottle beside her.

"Very well."

I wait patiently for her to start, giving her the time she seems to need. My hands are folded in my lap, mimicking her position. When her words finally come, they do so haltingly and timidly.

"When you first left...I was so lost, so alone. Like this huge chasm had opened and swallowed me whole. I couldn't eat, I barely slept. I relived your leaving every waking moment and every night in my dreams. Charlie...God, he had no idea what to do with me. Every night, I woke him up with my screams. The nightmares..."

She shudders and draws her legs up towards her chest, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on her arms, staring across the lake.

"After a while, he stopped bursting into my room whenever I was screaming. I kept going to school, but only because I knew I had to. About four months after you...disappeared, I came home to find my mother in the house, packing up my room. I lost it. Forks was my only connection to you, and I had no interest in going with her to Jacksonville. We fought for hours...it was fucking ugly, but she left the next day. It was about that time that I came up with my asinine plan to finish school, and then take off. I decided that if I wasn't good enough for you as a human, then all I needed was to find a vampire to make me like you."

I can't help it – my mouth falls open in utter shock. "You...what?"

Bella shrugs. "I said it was asinine. At the time, it made sense."

"Surely you realized that the likelihood of you surviving such an encounter would have been extremely slim?" I choke out past the lump in my throat. "Surely you realized that your regular garden variety vampire would have simply seen you as a meal?"

I don't know what to do with this information, so I simply bury my head in my hands, tugging at my hair in desperation and simultaneously thanking the God I don't believe in for letting her plan fail.

"Of course I know that now," she replies. "Just, at the time, I didn't stop to consider it. Even if I had, I didn't care much about living, if it meant being without you."

My medical training allows me to see her obvious death wish for what it was – born out of depression and desperation – but the guilt hits me hard, harder than I anticipated, and stronger than what I'm already experiencing based on the limited knowledge I have of her ordeal.

The irrational need for reassurance – despite seeing, hearing and scenting her beside me – makes me reach for her, pulling her across my lap. Once I have physical contact with her, contact that, thank the heavens, she allows, I am able to calm down enough for her to continue her story.

"What happened next?" I ask, even though I basically know the answer. My arms are securely wrapped around her, and I have no intention of ever letting her go. She leans her head against my shoulder.

"I pulled my shit together best I could and finished school, and then took off for Seattle after graduation, my meager savings in hand. Got a job, found a place to live. Each night, I prowled the seedy areas of town, hoping I'd come across one of your kind. I did that for a few months, and when I couldn't find what I was looking for, I quit my job and moved eastward. I figured that any vampire I hoped to find would most likely be in the larger cities, where people go missing every day without anyone caring, so I stuck to those. Somewhere along the way, I found pot, then pills. The drugs helped me...not forget, but make it through the night. Before I knew it, I needed them to survive. When I made it as far as New York, it didn't take long for my drug habit to interfere with work. Once I lost my job, losing my place to live wasn't far behind."

Her voice is getting rougher, so I reach for the water. "Here," I offer. She drinks a few sips before giving it back.

"It had started to get colder," she continues, "when he found me in Central Park. I thought I'd gotten rid of him, but he followed me. I heard your voice that night, warning me. Well, I heard your voice the first time I smoked pot, too. You sounded disappointed." She chuckles without humor.

I don't say anything, knowing that I'll be unable to respond in a constructive manner, knowing it's best to just keep my mouth shut for now.

"That whole '_It will be like I never existed_' didn't work out at all. As stupid as my plan was, your promise was ridiculous. No matter where I looked, I saw reminders of you. You were fucking everywhere."

**Bella**

I can feel the anger rising, as I relive those moments where his voice appeared in my mind.

"_Nothing dangerous_, you said. _Promise me_, you said. Fuck that shit. You didn't keep your promise, so why should I keep mine?"

He's a living stone underneath me, and it feels as if I'm being embraced by a statue. I think he stopped breathing. When I lift my head to look at him, his face is expressionless. And yet, as my gaze reaches his eyes, I can see the maelstrom of emotions whirling in them, the warm ocher replaced by blackest ice. It isn't ire I see, but burning guilt, shame and regret.

His stoic demeanor, his stubbornness in only blaming himself for what happened to me cools my jets immediately. I reach up and run my fingers across his cheek, barely suppressing a sigh of relief when he almost imperceptibly leans into my touch.

"Hey."

His chest rises and falls as he lets out a long sigh.

"It was stupid. _I _was stupid and pissed off and in so much pain, I wasn't thinking straight. I realize now that as much as I wanted to hurt you, well, your voice, or whatever I imagined at the time, in the end I only hurt myself. There was a time when I didn't care whether I lived or died, but I don't feel like that anymore. I'm...Thank you for saving me, Edward."

That gets his attention. His arms tighten around me, pulling me closer against him. My name is a whisper as he exhales. Another chunk of ice melts off my heart, another puzzle piece falls into place.

We sit silently for a long while, until Edward speaks again.

"How about some food now? And while you eat, perhaps you'd like to continue your story?"

I eye him before nodding slowly and sliding off his lap, wondering why he's so intent on me talking.

"Yeah, I guess I could eat a bite or two, but the story only gets worse from here."

He looks up at me, holding out a bowl of fruit. "Bella, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

I glance at the bowl and the fork he offers me. "I don't want this to hang between us. I feel like I need to get this out, ya know? Sure, part of me doesn't want you to know all the fucked up things I've done, but another part of me thinks that unless I tell you, you can't make an informed decision."

"What exactly do you mean, an informed decision? I already told you that nothing you say will make me stop loving you, Bella."

"I fucked men for money, Edward," I say, angry suddenly because he just doesn't get it. "I fucked men for money, in any which way they wanted, so I could buy more drugs. Do you understand? I spread my legs for anyone who would pay me. I was a whore. And once you realize that, you will look at me differently, and I can't...I can't-"

"Stop!" he says, amber eyes blazing, gripping my shoulder and staring into my eyes, imploring me. "Stop it right now. I will not have you talk about yourself like that. I love you, Bella. I _love_ you. It doesn't matter what you did. In the end, it only happened because I foolishly left you. You are not a whore. You are my Beloved, and I will not sit here and listen to you put yourself down. What's done is done. You said you wanted to move forward. If that is what you truly want, then we have to leave the past in the past. We cannot change what happened, though God knows I wish it were possible. I _wish_ I could go back to that moment before I told you I didn't want you anymore and stop myself from breaking your heart."

Tears are flowing freely as I absorb what he's saying. Regret is a sharp pain in my chest, knowing that what I gave away so freely in my drug-riddled haze should have belonged to him, and him alone.

"It should have been you," I cry. "I thought of you when he tore through my virginity; I was seeing your face when I gave him what was yours to take. How can you love me knowing that someone else claimed what should have been yours?"

"How can you love me, when I so callously shattered everything we had?"

At that moment, it all becomes so clear – forgiveness isn't a one-way street. It goes both ways, and as I forgive him for leaving me, he takes my regrets as his own. Our love, though ripped at the seams, is strong enough to withstand the pain and suffering we both have endured.

He loves me. He loves me so it hurts him to hear me talking about dying. He loves me so he wants to keep me. I begin to understand, finally, what he's been telling and showing me for months now – he truly wants to keep me.

"Edward," I whimper helplessly, and he pulls me back into his lap, surrounding me with his strong arms and his sweet scent.

"Sshh, don't cry, my sweet girl," he coos into my ear. "Let the past go. Let's focus on the future and give our love a chance to blossom again. All that matters now is the endless time we have ahead of us."

I hear what he's not saying, all the things he is insinuating with that statement, and it's ridiculously easy to agree.

"Okay."

I twist on his lap until I am straddling him, my hands sliding into his hair. I'm staring into his eyes, seeing the exact emotion I've finally realized he's feeling – utter adoration and devotion. My past doesn't matter, and while we definitely still have to work through our individual guilt and shame, we are finally on the same fucking page.

"You love me," I say as awe and hope and elation overflow inside me. "You fucking love me."

"I fucking love you," Edward repeats, his honeyed voice washing over me, his eyes soft and light again.

"You wanna keep me."

"I want to keep you. Forever."

"You left because you thought I deserved better."

"Yes," he says.

"Edward, there's _nothing_ better than you!"

I lean forward and kiss him. His response is immediate, and when my lips open, he doesn't hesitate to push his tongue into my mouth, searching for my own. I can taste the venom, sweet and tingly on my lips. My fingers sink deeper into his hair, and I use my grip to pull myself closer. His hands slide down to cup my ass, pushing me further into him, and I can feel his dick, growing hard and ready. Our moans fill the quiet air around us.

He slides lower on the bench, taking me with him, and then his fingers slip into my pants, cool on my bare skin. His hips are rising rhythmically; his kisses swallow my moaning grunts when his cock hits my sweet spot again and again, his hands softly squeezing my ass, pulling me back and forth over his crotch repeatedly.

We should stop before this gets out of hand, but I don't want to.

Neither does he, it seems.

Fuck, we're not ready.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he feels so good. Again and again, the head of his cock hits my clit, and then, out of nowhere, my orgasm rips through me, and I throw my head back, breaking the kiss.

"FUCK, YES! Edward, ungghhh!"

"Bella!" he roars on a loud growl and jerks against me twice more. I can feel him pulse underneath me.

I can barely catch my breath; my heart is hammering against my chest. His hands are still on my bare ass.

Holy fucking shit.

I made Edward come in his pants.

His eyes are huge, his irises, pitch black only a moment ago, slowly returning to the yellow I'm used to.

"Bella, I..." He slowly slides his fingers out of my pants and wraps them around my waist.

I fucking hate the shame I see in his eyes, and I hazard a wild guess why he's feeling ashamed. There's a long moment of awkward silence until I just blurt out what I'm feeling.

"Edward, don't. Don't fucking apologize for this. Please. Don't. You did nothing wrong."

"What?" he says and frowns. "I wasn't going to. I'm not sorry. Well, at least not for...this."

I stare at him, confused. "But you looked like you were ashamed."

He snorts softly. "Bella, sweetheart, what kind of man would I be, if I weren't?"

I continue to stare, unsure what he's talking about.

"I don't get it."

His eyes close for a moment. When he opens them again, shame has been replaced by what looks to be a sudden shyness.

"Well, let me put it this way – uhm...there's currently a...situation in my trousers that's never happened before. And it's just a little bit embarrassing."

My cheeks flame red with what he's insinuating, but I forge ahead. "So you're not sorry...that we...did...that?"

His lips curls up in that crooked grin I love so much.

"Not at all, no. Not one little bit. The gentleman in me feels as if I should apologize, but I have the impression that you wanted this as well. And I told you I was yours; that you could have whatever you want from me. This included."

I'm stunned, even though I know I shouldn't be. He did say that – I just have a hard time really believing it. Then again, what just happened does confirm that he meant what he said. And if he meant that, perhaps he also means all the other things he's told me.

My heart opens a little wider, and I feel myself smiling.

"Okay," I say. "That's...good to know."

Edward smiles sheepishly and shifts, looking a little uncomfortable. "Yes, well...I didn't dare hope...that you'd be inclined to...so soon. This is not the reason I brought you out here."

I return his smile, and just like that, it's no longer awkward at all. His open honesty took care of that.

"I know that, silly. So...uhm...do you need to clean up or something?"

I swear, if he could blush, he probably would be bright red at this point. He nods.

"Yes. Serendipitously, I have spare clothing in the car."

"Really?" I question as I slide off his lap and come to rest on the bench next to him. "Do you usually drive around with extra clothes in your trunk?"

He grins crookedly. "Not normally, no. I have a change of clothes for both of us. Alice put them in my car, though she didn't let me see why. I simply thought that perhaps you'd fall, though I would never let that happen, or that, being at the lake, you'd get wet-"

He breaks off when I start giggling uncontrollably and stares at me with confusion in his eyes. "What is so funny?"

I can barely choke out the words between gasp for air and laughing so hard. "You thought...hahaha...I'd get wet...hahahahaha...I guess we both did."

Edward's eyes crinkle with amusement when he joins me in my silly snickering. It takes me a minute or five to calm down again. It feels so good to laugh like that, and I can't remember the last time I've felt so carefree. I lean over and kiss him lightly, still grinning.

"Okay, vampire boy, would you please get the bag your sister packed for us? I don't know if I should be thankful for her foresight, or embarrassed that she saw...that."

"Don't be embarrassed," Edward says immediately. "It's one of those things that are unavoidable. Much like my hearing when the members of my family get...amorous, shall we say, Alice can't stop those visions. And to be honest, I'm thankful that she decided not to show me the reason for the change of clothes. I probably would have been a basket of nerves."

I giggle again, still tingly from my earlier orgasm. "I'd say you did pretty good."

Edward smiles happily. "Thank you for saying that. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Not at all," I reply, and it's the truth. Even when he grabbed my ass, he was careful not to apply too much pressure. The thought makes me happy – it proves that he can trust himself with me, something I know he's been afraid of.

"Very well, I'll be right back."

I watch him blur out of sight, and it doesn't take him long to return, a leather weekender under his arm. He pulls out a pair of jeans for me, folded around clean underwear. Gentleman that he is, he averts his eyes when I slip out of my jeans and panties and change.

I'm not a gentleman, or gentlewoman for that matter, so I ogle shamelessly when he turns his back to me to pull on new boxers and jeans. Of course, he does it so quickly that I barely have time to see his sparkly ass, damn him. I forgo my shoes, wiggling my bare toes in the air. After he has stuffed the soiled clothing back into the bag, he drops it behind the bench and pulls up the picnic basket again.

"Would you like to eat something now?"

My stomach gurgles in response, and for the life of me, I can't stop the blush that heats up my face.

Edward laughs. "I take that as a yes."

* * *

><p><strong>Endnote:<strong> So there you have it. To be continued. I'm not participating in any fundraisers but there might be a new chapter soonish. Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear what you thought.

Till next time!


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